


Flower of Paradise

by JeanFi



Category: Farscape
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-03
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2017-12-31 10:05:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 44,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1030405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JeanFi/pseuds/JeanFi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after "Peace Keeper Wars".   Scorpius crashes on a planet while escaping another power over throw of the Peace Keepers.  The woman who finds him is far more than he ever expected.  She may be a bi-species like him, but she was created in a much different way.  Could he finally find peace with his two halves?   Could she be his saving grace?</p><p>* updated format for easier reading 10/13/15</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Paradise Plus a Bird: Chapter  1

Scorpius x OC female    
~~~

{six months before the destruction of Scorpius‘ Command Carrier due to Tayln‘s sacrifice}  

     The girl, nothing but a slave and a maid, makes her way into Lord Scorpius’ private chambers.  She does not know why, (nor does he for that matter) she is the only one permitted to clean his leather body suit.  There are rules.  She always follows them for she has seen the result of his wrath upon even the slightest of errors by others.  Slaves were not banned from is presence to go serve another, they are executed so they will spill no secrets.  
    Our slave sits down on the chair and waits for she needs to tell him what she has done to his suit before he explodes in a rage to an unauthorized alteration.  There is only one chair in this private area beside his bathroom door.  As all commander’s bathrooms, it contains one toilet, one sink and one shower.  All in one room.  Luxury is not lavished in that private of areas.   Therefore, the steam is billowing out of the seams.     
   True he should not allow himself to heat up, but sometimes the external body just needs a good cleansing vs. what the internal body desires to function on.  Then she hears the roar of frustration and the adjustment of the knobs.  Obviously he’s switched from steam to ice chill.  
      What she wasn’t expecting to hear was the whimper and the slump against the wall.  She waits.   It wouldn’t be advisable of her to open the door and see her master naked and vulnerable.  Then again, she would have no master if he dies.   Some would call her a hero, others would blame her.   So she waits a respectable amount of time and then, taps on the door.  
    “M-master?”  A grunt is all she gets in reply so she tries again, “Master Scorpius, I have returned with your suit.  Shall I leave it or show you what I have done?”  
     “Towel,” is grunted out again.  Laying the suit over the chair, she grabs the towel and robe.  Just as she opens the door she closes her eyes and extends both hands.  He can see the two pieces of soft cloth being offered but he’s in no mood to move right now, so he grunts for her to move forward.   Slowly she does until he tells her to stop.   Hearing his voice coming from the floor, she lowers her arm and he takes the offered towel.     
      “What have you done to my suit?”  It’s an order for information, but not projected in disgust or rant.  
      Keeping her eyes respectfully closed does not stop the quivering in her belly to being this close to the vulnerable and dangerous High Commander.   Thus she can not stop the slight quiver in her voice.   “A-as I was cleaning it, I noticed one of the pieces was wearing out.   I-it looks like it was damaged in some kind of a fight.  I did not have anymore of that leather to replace it with, therefore I used a slightly different, softer kind, but made sure to have the shield-plating put back in.   To keep it symmetrical, I changed out the other matching side piece.   Forgive me for doing this without your permission,” and lowers her head in submission.  
  A chuckle.   A staggering to standing up, and another chuckle.     
  Hearing him stand, she opens the robe for him to slide into.   He laugh softly again as she reaches up to put it over his shoulders and he ties the waist belt.   Still, she keeps her eyes closed awaiting his next orders.  
   What she wasn’t expecting was to feel those dark lips pressing to her cheek.  Then to the other side and then to her forehead.   “You may go, innocent thing.  Do not worry, you have my favor.”  The slave girl has no idea that her master finds so much favor with her that he never checks her heat signature for honesty anymore.   Her heart is too pure in just wanting a safe and respected home.  She has his respect because she respect him in return.

     Feeling comforting warmth from the cold cored man, she steps back and dips her head in a slight bow still not looking to him even though she is a bit curious.   That makes him smile again.   “It’s alright, you may look.”  
      “No, my… Master,” with that she swiftly turns and skitters out of his private quarters.  
      For him, he does find it funny that only moments ago he was in agony of who he is and what shall ever become of him, yet there is one as simple as this who won’t betray something as simple as his naked unprotected body.   “Interesting,” he strokes his chin, feeling a good warmth glowing within him.

~{ahead to ..  
    Then came the day that Talyn & Crais made their sacrifice taking with them the  destruction of Scorpius’ Command Carrier.   Standing on the stairs of his quarters watching as the H2O holding tanks burst through the wall to his private quarters trying to wash away everything he has gained, Iris’ heart actually pangs for him.   So proud and regal staying composed and not coming unglued as the others rush and run for their lives.  No, he stands there pissed but yet still not going to let the chaos tear apart his composure.   
    She’s always known there was more to him than just this grandiose arrogance that everyone else sees.  There’s more to him than this hatred of the Scarran race and all they stand for.  There’s a longing in him that he pleads for.   Now watching his ship implode and taking with it his dignity and accomplishments, he has more than an anger on his face.   A loss.  
      Wading through the water and dodging a few escaping people, she comes to him.   Knowing that he can’t hear her through the destruction of the ship and his own thoughts, she folds her hand over his fist, “Scorpius?”  
      He turns from his thoughts to look at the person who bothered to stop for him.  “What are your orders for me?”  
       That brings a soft smile to him for she is no officer nor a soldier to take orders from him.   She’s just a mere maid and slave to do his bidding.  He’s not so blinded by his current thoughts to forget who she is.  “What is your name?”  
     That makes her smile.   In all the cycles she has served him, he never once called her anything but ‘slave‘, and she never cared.  He kept her fed, clothed, and housed, protected and treated her with gruff-respect   Now, as his world is falling apart, he finally asks a personal question and actually cares.  
     “Iris.”  
     That brings a broader smile to him, “Of course it is.”   Another explosion and making the urn holding his personal Bird of Paradise plant keen.   Both of them leap to catch it before the gushing water can whisk it away.  She captures the urn, slipping in the water to land on her kiester.   He cups the blossom before it can hit the water, falling to a knee.  
     She smiles seeing how they both saved one of the few items he has that have nothing to do with Peace Keeper operations.  They did not try to save the cooling rods he needs to sustain his core temperature and thus his life.   No, this one flower they both tried to save.  
   Iris has no idea that this flower comes from the place where his mother had been kidnapped and taken prisoner.  All she does know, it that it is important to him.  
   It surprises him that she would care at all for this lonely object.   He looks down upon her and can see now, she beholds him in more than a master-servant roll.   Not even in a infatuation or celebrity way.   No, she sees… more in him.     
    “Sir, what do you want me to do?”   Once more she asks as more explosions are going off.  
  Pulling her to her feet, (seeing how she is hugging the urn quite securely) wraps and arm around her waist and hauls her to the wall.  “Live.”   With that he smacks the ship-wide com and gives his evacuation orders.  
   Once he is done, he looks back to her, “Take this, and go live.  I release you.  I never want to see you at my service again.  Go now.”  
    “And you?”  
    He maybe smiling for her not to worry about him, but the growl comes from deep down below in his belly, “I have UNFINISHED business to attended to!”  
     That gives her a smile to see he is not giving up and staying strong in his resolve.    With a final nod to her former-master, follows his orders and runs.  She is careful to cup the blossom protectively while embracing the urn. Bumped and jostled, she makes her way to the escape shuttles.  
       As the shuttle dashes out of their port side, it banks and the passengers can see the middle of the massive carrier go nova and rip apart in a blinding light.  Shielding their eyes, the passengers brace for the shockwave.   Sure enough, the wave comes over and  buffets them away, spraying them with shrapnel.  In a last ditch effort to break away from any more debris, they make a jump to Starburst.

~~~  
   Unwarping, the shuttle shudders, horribly.   Iris clutches the urn to her as if it was an infant.  Someone starts screaming as the shuttle suddenly yaws and the pilot snaps instructions to them to prepare for a crash landing.  
    Iris bows over the plant and prepares for her end.   Can it all really end this way?  The question is ripped from her as the screaming metal shrieks in an octave close to the females and children on this shuttle tearing through the reentry process.  
    The heat flaring past the window burns away all other thoughts.  Gravity hits hard compounded  the weight of their doom only to strike ground sliding along the terrain.  It all stops instantly with a brutal crunch into a cliff base.   
   Silence of voices and screams of both ship and passengers.  The jarring of insanity with the lack of movement. Only the pinging of cooling metal and settling of crumbling dirt can be heard mixed with a few soft moans.   For as silent as space is supposed to be, this is the real silence.  Iris can feel she is not alright.  Looking around, no one is alright.  Many necks are broken with lifeless eyes still open.  On top of that, now she can smell the poison coming in.  Something must have ruptured.   No scientist, but she knows it can’t be good for this plant either.  
    Another groan of metal, and something drops open flooding her face with sunlight. It takes her three tries to get her harness released.  That’s when she sees the blood coming from her side.   It’s not a small wound either from how soaked her uniform is.  Now she can see why.  The urn broke and jammed itself well into her cavity.  She knows that death is certain, but Scorpius’ plant must survive.    
     Stumbling and crawling her way out the opening, the warm sunlight bathes her pale face.  Iris can’t remember the last time she felt natural sunlight.   Too bad she will be finding it now of all times, but that doesn’t stop the smile on her face.   For here, she sees dirt.  Real honest to goodness sun warmed dirt.  
     Falling to her side, she does her best to dig into the recently plowed dirt and makes a hole.   Once she thinks she has it down deep enough, painfully, she grunts and tugs the plant from the broken pot and plops it into the hole.  She can feel herself waning and knows time is short so, she uses her last bit of energy to shove the dirt around the plant and curl her body around it.  One colored bit of the blossom falls down and lands right before her fading eyes.   She smiles hoping that even if they lose the whole command carrier, maybe this one innocent life could be spared.  Under the hot searing sun, her life fades away…..

~~{Time passes}~~  
    Coup and political attacks have come after him once more.  Once more he is running for his life.   When will this end?  When will it all end?  What will be the end?   He was conceived as a weapon under the horrors of rape.  He was born at the cost of a death.   His drive has always been death and revenge.   To kill off a whole race.  Half of his own DNA.   A piece of himself that he absolutely hates.  
    Unfortunately, it is also the half of his life that has giving him a warriors strength.  
     Now, here he is falling out of a Starburst-leap only to be shot at again.  The leap had already been cut short due to over heating from a few lucky rounds splicing a cooling tube while escaping from yet another a Command Carrier.  Now, even more rounds but from some stupid derelict freighter, no less.   A jumble of scraps and junk is what finally takes down the Great Scorpius?  
     Pathetic.  
        
      A final screaming whistle of reentry and emanate impact with the ground below looks to be his end.   Releasing the controls, Scorpius releases the harness and lets his hands splay wide hoping for death to finally come to him swiftly.   No more tortures from others or himself.   No more chasing unreachable desires.   No more woes of politicians or warriors who want him dethroned or beheaded.  
     No.   It all ends now and he will embrace it.   He closes his eyes and expels all his lungs have.     
     Impact.   Wonderful impact and the pod of a shuttle slams into the soft ground like a stick in the mud.  
     “Damn,” he sags to surviving the impact.  Feeling dizzy and then the trickle of blood coming over his eye, he smiles.   Maybe fate has still been kind to him after all and will let him go.  Might just little bit longer than he had wished for.   Slumping over the controls he feels the peace of blackness coming over him… he thanks the gods of both his heritages for taking his life away… finally.

~~~~~  
      Fate has not been kind to him, so he awakens to find out.   The sound of sweet birds is hell to a brutal headache.  Pain makes it quite clear he survived the black-out in the pod.   A groan whines out of his heart and weights his heavy head to a side.  “No…” he whimpers, “…please no…”  and finds himself slipping back under the heavy darkness.  He tries to fight it wanting to find a way to make permanent black-out.   For he knows that if he slips down, his body will just recover.  Just before heavy blackness claims him again, he happens to notice he’s on his back.   That could only mean one other thing….  
      “Go….a-way,” he pleads to his rescuer and is pulled back under the heavy blackness.              
    
     The cloaked figure turns to the sound of whimpering and mumbling on the pallet of a bed.   Silent as a butterfly, they come back to the bedside and sit on the very edge.   A bare pale hand rolls the equally pale male’s face back and then takes the hot cloth off his head to dunk it back into the bucket of cool water under the beside table.   Once more covering Scorpius’ head with the towel, the robed figure takes the time to run soft knuckle-backs down his cheek.  Scorpius gives off a soft moan, like a fever-sick child might into a comforting touch.  The finger-backs continue their soft touches until Scorpius no longer makes a sound and the chest rises and falls more evenly.

~~~  
   Over the course of the next several weeks, Scorpius drifts in and out of his delirium.  Moaning, screaming and even the occasional tear escapes him, but never a complete sentence.   Never does his nurse-maid say anything back.   Only do the soft hands continue to cool the fevered body with the rustic means available.     
   Inserting a reed into his mouth, water and broth is trickled down his throat as well.   Sure the body begins to emaciate, but the heart stays viable.  Sure the pale body goes paler, but the fever doesn’t seem to spike as high when a certain concentration of this one broth is given.  More and more of that broth is sent down the reed-straw into his weak body.     
    And then, the fever breaks.   The cool cloths aren’t laid across the bare pale head anymore and yet he still stays cool.   The simple bedding isn’t soaked in sweat anymore.  Yes he still slumbers, but no longer thrashes in nightmares.  For three more days, he sleeps soundly.  Never a sound or movement, but the caretaker is not concerned.    
    The robed figure continues to move through daily routine.   Four times a day slowly and painfully dribbling broth down into the inert man.   Carefully washing the weak body and rolling it to keep sores from appearing.   Never does the figure move to far from the patient.

~~~  
    Scorpius opens his eyes.  He feels like he was spit out of a wormhole only to smack against the side of a ship.   He moans in his agony but too weak to move and too broken to want to breathe.  
      A hooded form turns towards him but the sheer fabric covers the face depriving the ailing man of his caretaker‘s identity.   He can not even tell if it is a man or a woman; just a body in a blurry swath of fabric.  Blinking, his eyes to focus a bit better, but still the form does not move or reveal any more of their identity.   Having met enough species he can read body language well enough.   This person is accessing him from a distance.  
     Seeing that, he croaks out a single question, “Why?”  
     The form does not move.  Not sure if the form understood him or even heard him, he tries again.   It’s hell on his throat, but he has to try calling out a bit louder, “Why…save…me?”  
     To this, the form turns away.   Not just from watching him, but out of his sight.  
     “Wait!”  He tries to cry out, but with his throat so sore and so dry it comes out as only as a raspy whisper.  “ple-ase…”     
    The last beg is not just for the hooded figure but for fate as well….

     Why save the spawn of a demon like him?


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Scorpius maybe OOC and his emotions are a bit all over the map. I do have a plan for our mysterious figure but would be curious what you think of them.

Paradise Plus a Bird II  
  
  
    This next time Scorpius’ head pulls from the darkness of heavy sleep, he can most certainly feel himself improving in health, and curses for it.   Instead of focusing on the fact he is still alive, which will just make him madder, he decides to turn his attention to his situation.  
     Having been captured, imprisoned, and tortured enough, he knows he doesn’t have to be able to move his body in order to access a situation.  His body might be weak, but his mind is more that functioning.   After all, even drugged he was smart enough to get himself out of more than enough situations by paying attention to details.  
    First thing he looks at is the room.  It’s not just a room but a whole building.  One A-frame rustic cabin-like structure.  The inverted V’s are lashed together quite soundly and by the discolored logs building up the sides he can see this building was not completed in one season.  It must have taken cycles.   These logs are also no small feat to move for the body size  of hooded figured he had seen.   The few windows here and there look like they came from downed shuttles.   Some even look Peace Keeper, but that’s hardly surprising.  
     What is surprising to the former military officer is if the windows are here, why not build the rest of the structure out of sound shuttle scrap?   Why use primitive natural fibers?   Wood?   Thatch?   Reeds?   He notices herbs, and other stores hanging in burlap and other cache material from the cross beams that keep the V’s spaced apart.  
       Turning his head from the roof to the side, he sees a simple kitchen:   A dual basin ‘sink’ made of double a bowled stone with and additional stone like counter top on each side.   Easy to clean and won’t warp with repeated water use.  Rather ingenious.  Whom ever is caretaking him is no primitive.   Someone good with their hands and problem solving skills.  
      Taking a deep sigh, he now accesses himself.   His hands splay out over the covering he is laying on.  A cotton sheet on top of a thick piled animal hide.   Sheep, llama-- something like that.   His head is upon a pillow so light and fluffy it must be filled with avian down.   It feels so good.  The luxury in this remote area, unforeseeable.   Slowly bringing his hands to his belly, is quite surprised to find he is not in his leather suit but covered in a very light weight cotton fabric, much like the sheet.   His heart shivers for a moment for the cooling rods in his head.  
       And then he has to laugh at himself.   For he’s wanted nothing but to die for such a long time and yet now for a brief moment he is worried about over heating and dying?  Ha, the irony.   True there are more hideous ways to die, but over-heating is one of the worst.    
    His arms are so weak he can’t lift them, but he can slide his hands up and over his throat to his cheeks and then… his eyes and forehead.   All uncovered.   Someone has removed his leather helmet.   His head is completely exposed and… warm.  Not hot, but…warm?   His skin feels.   With a hand covering his right eye, he lets his fingers play into the wrinkles on his forehead.   When is the last time he let himself explore the texture of his own skin?   When is the last time he cared what his skin felt like?   When was the last time he…felt?  
     Closing his eyes, he lets his fingers continue their exploration of his face while the other ungloved one plays with the cotton and thick pelt under it.     
     His ears take in the sounds of his prison.  Sounds he can identify but has to search for names for.   These are not the sounds of metal pinging in expansion and contraction of Starburst and space travel.   Not machinery of ventilation and propulsion.   No, these are natural sounds.  
     An avian chirping.   A bug crick-ing.   Leaves small and great rustling against each other.   Far off in the distance, water.   The sound of small waves lapping up onto a shore.  Not an ocean roar, but small ones like a lake.    
     Then he hears rustic sounds.   Fabric flapping in the breeze.  Lashed poles creaking against each other. Someone digging in the dirt with a small tool.  The plunk of something into a reed basket… and that smell.  
      No.   It… can’t… be.  
  
       Whomever is digging just outside the propped open window above the stone sink, stands and hefts the basket off the ground.   Soft padding of leather footsteps and the fabric framed door is pulled back flooding the room with midmorning sunlight.   So this is the east side of the planet.   Or at least the rising side of the planet.  
       This time the figure is swathed in dun colored fabric and sets the large basket on another table near the door.   He can not see it, but he can see the back of the person and the lift of the shoulders.   Scorpius ponders weather to let them know he is awake or just access them more.  Pulling his chapped bottom lip into his mouth, the decision is made for him.  
      The figure turns and is startled a little to see him watching them.  Scorpius only catches a quick flash of red eyes before the hood is pulled down further and turns away.   Scorpius rolls his head and sees the figure go to the sink-side table.  Reaching under pulls out a pitcher and a couple mugs of simple pottery.   Placing a reed straw in one, keeps their head bowed low and comes to him.   They round over the head of the bed, obviously not up against a wall then and lifts.      
     Scorpius is once again surprised.   Apparently this bed elevates like a medical berth bring him to a sitting up position.   Staying out of his sight, a small pale hand brings the cup to where his lips can take in the straw.  He does as he is silently ordered and even tries to take the cup but his  hands can bear the weight, and flop back down to his side.   So he drinks it all down until the straw makes it’s slurping sound.   With that, the cup is taken away and set into the stone sink and the figure picks up the other mug on their way out the door again.     
      Once more, he is alone.  Once more, he is trapped.   Once more, confused.  
     Who would take the time to save him and why?   If they think he is a worth trading for, they are kidding themselves.  For he has been rejected by everyone.   He’s not even worth saving.  
     Closing his eyes, he lets his body just be.   There’s really not much of a choice for him right now.   He can’t move his form enough to even kill it if he wanted to.   Swallowing, he actually feels guilty too. Someone has taken a lot of time and care for him, and it would be disrespectful of him to kill himself after all they have done for him.  
     He may be a tough man with pride and arrogance, but he is also a man of honor, unlike either of his races.   He will hold his end of a bargain as long as others hold to theirs.    If this hooded person took all this time to save him, than the least he can do is pay them back a little before he leaves them.  Out of their sight, he will end his suffering. No need to harm another for his own sins.      
     He smiles warmly.   For the first time in a long time he has a goal.   Even if the goal is to heal himself up enough to end this forever.  With that, he lets himself enjoy the view outside the kitchen window.  The glimpse of a beach off in the distance and a tree providing shade near the window is a welcome sight.   A beautiful bird comes and lands on the branch cawing out it’s demand.   The pale hand that had held his mug earlier, now holds up a tree-nut and the bird greedily takes it only to fly off rudely.   There is the sound of a soft ‘humph’ of amusement from the hand’s owner before returning to the digging.  
       Continuing to watch, he sees the hooded figure wander off towards the lake and out of his sight.  What ever could this person be?   And why would they bother to take the time to even save him?  What could they want from him?  
      For the moment though, he has found himself with a new issue.   All the liquid he took in is now looking for a way out.   He knows he is in no capacity to stand and might not even be able to crawl, so what is--- oh.   A warm feeling goes across his thigh and then he hears running liquid in a basin under his bed he knows this person has thought of everything.   Nervous as to what he will find, pans his hand down to his pelvic region.   A small funnel has been fitted to his body and thus saved the bedding.  Apparently the funnel has a tube at the end to run to a basin under the bed.  
      For the first time in a very long time, he feels shy.   Save the one Scarran that ‘raised him’  (if that can even be considered the proper term for what she did!) no one has seen him fully uncovered.   Not even Sikozu.  He sighs regarding the female he did so enjoy tumbling and toying with.   She was a sense of comfort in his troubling days.   She did try to show him caresses and her kisses were sweet in the beginning only to turn into passionate and hot later like several other conquests he had.  Once more, that was all a temporary though, nothing to be held onto forever.  It was nothing more than a physical release of tension.  Just like his body, like he reflected a moment ago, no one has ever seen him fully uncovered:  body, soul or anything.   No one will ever see his full vulnerability.  
  
      Yet here he is now… emaciated and bared to some stranger.  Dependant on them.   It’s not like he hasn’t been dependant on others before, he is no fool, but not like this.   Exposed without his consent.  Healed without his permission.  Protected without his authorization.  This strange person has cared for him.   They didn’t just let him rot in a corner and soil himself.   They didn’t just force stuff down his throat and make him live.   No, they… cared.   Why?   No one has ever cared for him.   The closest he has ever to being cared for was… what was that little slave’s name?  
        Frustrated that he can’t remember something, turns his head from the peaceful scenery and he looks down the rest of this triangular home.   On the walls are a special items.   A collection of feathers artistically arranged and awaiting new material to finish the project. There’s fabric carefully folded and placed on a unique shelf, crafted of course to fit these angled walls.   A shelf filled with real books.   A couple pieces of colored glass in jars.   Another window has broken bits of mosaic glass arranged to look like a flower casting it‘s colored image on the floor.  It too is awaiting new material, probably from the jar.   From what he can see, this is a single person with plans to live a while.   A peaceful future, not something he is accustomed to.  
      Why would a peaceful hermit save a wreck like him?   It just boggles his brilliant mind leaving him more and more confused with each gathering piece of new information.  
  
       On and on his day progresses this way.   When the sun is now warming the walls of the shack behind his head, the shrouded figure returns.   Without a word, his waste basin is removed, rinsed outside and returned.   This time a meal of small pieces of bread and a thicker broth is given to him.   All the while, the sheer fabric conceals the silent healer’s face.  
       Graciously he accepts the nourishment and even tries to touch them.  Just as his hand grazes the person’s hip (only place within reach of his weak hand) the figure jerks from the bed to stand.  
       “I’m sorry.   I just… thank you?” his poor throat groggily croaks out.   The figure makes no motions to indicate weather they understood or even heard him.   With a sigh of frustration, he tries again, “How long have I been here?”  
      Meal over, the hidden figure moves back over to the table he had seen them set the basket onto earlier.   A grid is marked on the wall with black paint.  In certain squares (in a pattern) are a woven yellow reed circles.   They must mark something.   The pale hand points to one square where a torn piece of his leather suit is marked and then drops down to a red woven ring.   Scorpius can see this is a calendar.   He’s not sure what the yellow circles mean, but hanging above the calendar he can pretty much guess what the other series of circles mean.    Adding them up he notices this person has been here for nearly fifteen cycles of this calendar.     
     One of the cycle-circles is black with a feather stuck into it.   That one is about five cycles in.   Before he can ask though, the figure gathers their own meal and dashes back outside.  
      “Great!   More questions.”   Scorpius mutters to himself and brings his hand to his face.   That makes him blink.   Okay so more like he almost slapped himself in the face, but at least he is getting more of his motor control back.  
  
~~~  
      Two more movements of the red circle on the calendar has him stuck sitting on the bed being a pathetic invalid and getting better muscle control over his hands and arms.  Today he’s at his limit.   On the morning of the third, he knows he needs to use the real facilities.   There is no way he is going to let this mysterious person wipe his rear.   After all, the Great Scorpius does have SOME pride left.  
     When he knows the figure has gone down to the lake and will be there for a while, he makes his move.    Carefully he removes the funnel from his body, and sits himself upright of his own accord letting his weak legs dangle off the edge of the bed.   Now comes the moment of truth.  Slipping down but still leaning heavily on against the bed, his feet land on a soft animal pelt.   Oh it feels so good between his toes and his knees can support his weight.   The soft pelt feels so good that it makes him laugh a little and wiggle his toes into the plushiness.    When was the last time he went barefoot anywhere?   He just doesn’t know!   It makes him smile.   A real smile.  A lost smile.   A peaceful smile.  
  
       Taking a deep breath he knows he is much stronger that he has been in days.   Sure this move to the facilities and back may drain all his energy, but he has to make an effort to provide for himself.   So he moves.   Holding onto the bed, table and walls makes his way to the back end of the cabin.   It wasn’t hard for him to figure out this is where the restroom is.   Having seen his hooded caretaker go in there a couple times a day and yet all the rest of the time remain out of Scorpius’ sight, the bi-species male can easily figure out what this room is.   Sure enough, he shuffles and struggles his way down and opens the door.  
     To his surprise, he finds the pieces of a shuttle waste facility unit with slight modifications to blend in with the rest of the cabin décor.   Plunking himself down, he is so relieved to be able to sit. Who knew that a trip from one end of the short cabin to the other could be so taxing to his body.  
  
      Once finished, and rinsing his hand in the simple basin in the room, Scorpius opens the door and begins the shuffling trip back down the small cabin.   From this direction, he can see more of the view outside the propped open kitchen window.   The lake is as large as the artificial one on a command carrier and a good safe distance from the cabin but one hell of a way to haul water!   And that is exactly what his caretaker is doing right now.   With a wooden yoke over the shoulders is bringing two heavy buckets of water back.    Water that both of them need to survive on.  
     Guilt pangs him sharply in the heart.   Why?   Why should this person take care of him?   Why should he feel guilty for them taking care of him?   He’s used to controlling, directing, and ordering people to take care of his every whim so why does it bother him now?  He has to tear his eyes away from someone coming back to provide for him of their own accord.  
    Stumbling and shuffling his way back he takes in the rest of the furnishings of the room.   His jaw drops in revelation.   There’s not one piece of electronic equipment.   Not a wire, a button, a light or a diode anywhere.   No modern convinces.   Turning back to the kitchen he pays special close attention to the fixtures.   A wood burning stove, no faucet for running water in the sink, not even a cold storage unit for food.   He looks up to the ceiling; no electric lights, just a few jars of oil with wicks.  
     By now he has made his way back to the wooden framed bed covered with plain but function fabric.   No lavished silk, no thermal blankets, not poly-foam cushioning and yet it provided for him during his convalescing.   His hands grip the fabric and pelt as strongly as he can (which isn’t much) and his head hangs.    The only bed in this cabin.  
     Still hanging, he turns to look out the window near the head of the bed.   There he sees that it isn’t one tree that shades this corner of the cabin but two and between their trunks is slung a hammock with linens in it.    He shuffles over to the window to take a closer look at where his caretaker has been sleeping at night while he takes their only bed.  
     It may be simple enough when you are in a survival situation, but that is not what this is.   This is a home to which he doesn’t deserve to be in and never asked to be welcomed into.  
     Sure in the past he wouldn’t have cared and would have plopped himself down and lorded his title over someone to get what he needs… but that man has been defeated and betrayed too many time to have any desired to lead anymore.  
      No, the man that sinks to the floor now just wants to dissolve back into the basic elements of nature again.   He wants to be nothing anymore.   Less than nothing and even the kindness of an unknown stranger will not allow that.  
      Sinking himself lower presses his forehead into his knees and crushes his forearms to his uncovered scalp, gripping his hands into his base.   He doesn’t want to be here.   He doesn’t want to …be.   Why can’t it just all end?   Why can’t he have just one desire even if it’s just to not exist anymore?  
        
      He hears the door open and the soft covered feet stall.  Obviously they are looking for him.   Looking after him once again.   Scorpius will not acknowledge them this time though.     
      He has no choice when the body comes over to him and wedges their self between the head of the bed, the wall and the balled up male.  It’s not their presence that makes him acknowledge them, it’s the callused hand that reaches inside his ball and cups his chin.   Feeling some one actually touch his uncovered skin surprises him so that he has no choice but to let them manipulate him.   The hand raises his chin until his own eyes see another pair.  
     Just the eyes.    The rest of the face and body are covered by the fabric, but the eyes lock onto his.  He’s never seen eyes so beautiful.   They glimmer and sparkle like the Scarran Emperor’s jeweled collar of garnets.    Except these garnets are alive with kindness and flecked with gold of hope and deep violet of mystery.  
      “Why?”   Scorpius pleas ever so softly.   “Please just tell me why?”  
      The lids over the eyes halve and the head cants ever so slightly to pity him with a daw-look.    
     For that, Scorpius closes his own.   It’s the last thing he can handle is that, “Don’t.”  
     To his surprise, the hand slips away from him and rolls back to their feet.   Soft padding leaves the cabin and leaves Scorpius to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Paradise III  
  
   Scorpius is not sure how long he stayed huddled in a ball while his nursemaid left him to his private misery.   Too defeated and physically weak, he didn’t try returning to the soft bed of his infirmity.   Instead, stays seated on the soft pelt rug.  
    He knows he is going to have to get up and move sometime, but just isn’t sure how to face anything.   This hermit has giving him no indication as to what they want from him or anything else for that matter.  If he can’t die, that what is he supposed to do?   
  
     The door opening again lifts his chin from his knees.  A wooden bowl is set on the stone counter and another bowl pulled from the cabinet.   To his surprise, a stool is pulled from the corner of the room a plunked down before the counter and then those garnet eyes turn directly to him and point to the stool.     
      Scorpius just stares.   The jewel eyes do not turn away but thrust a finger to the stool again.   He’s being told to sit before the counter.   He just blinks in return.   Once more the finger indicates and then turns aside to stoke the fire in the stove.   Oh, now he gets it; he is to help prepare the meal.  
       Scorpius reaches up, grips the edge of the bed and pulls himself up, “I have no culinary skills, I must warn you.”  He may be used to being in control, but slacker he is NOT.   Constantly striving to be a gentleman he is determined to pull his own fair share of the weight in any task and right now he can not handle being pandered to.   Thus he will do as bidden even if it is to help prepare a meal he will partake of.  
       The hermit pays no mind to his words or his grunt and just continues with their own project with some kind of batter.   Making his way over, Scorpius plunks down to the stool and looks into the two bowls.   One has dirty green beans in it with water and the other is empty.   He looks up from the bowls completely confused as to what to do now, “Ahhh…”  
       His swathed caretaker comes over and picks up a bean.   Rinsing it so no dirt is visible, snaps off each end, tosses it into the empty bowl, and then turns back to their own project.   Scorpius pulls his lips to a tight scowl.   Nothing like being silently admonished and ordered like a child for something so dirty-dumb simple.   Fine!   His current silent tormentor wants to treat him this way, he can return the attitude.  He snaps those beans viciously.  
       To his surprise, a soft giggle comes from his tormentor.  He blinks again and turns his cold blue eyes to … a female?  She doesn’t look up but does use a whisk to torment the batter in like attitude.   Growling lightly to her tease towards his domineer, he snaps the beans harder.  She beats harder.  He takes several beans and snaps them into tiny bits.  She laughs harder and he slams one more demolished vegetable into the finished bowl getting frustrated at her teasing.  
        Planting his hands to the counter, he prepares to launch himself from the stool and away from her.   Just as his rear rises, a hand clamps down on his wrist pinning him to the counter.   This whips his head to lock sights on the warm ones looking in his.  They are not twinkling in gold-mirth, nor are they giving him pity again.  This time they are showing him something else with a soft hue.  
      She takes both of his hands and turns them palms up.   Squeezing her hands to his, gives a soft shake.   He knows he is meant to squeeze back in like fashion.   So he does but he doesn’t understand and says so with his furrowed brow.   The eyes turn more soft violet than ruby red.   Taking a bean she grips each end and snaps it.   Then she puts one in his hand and helps his hands break the bean.   Oh, this is a home-therapy for him to regain motor control that the infirmity tried to take from him.  
     His shoulders slump feeling so dense.   As brilliant and genius that he is when it comes to the matters of math and astrophysics, he’s feeling utterly stupid with his own body.   The soft pale hands fold his up and give them a soft pat before returning to her own piece of the meal.  
    Silently they continue their preparations.   Each snap is making his fingers stronger and a bit sore.  Each cooked bit of batter is making his olfactory senses come vibrantly alive.   For so long he has been used to the filtered air of space travel.   Bland basic rations for his pallet while his sight on computer monitors or checking heat signatures for truth or lies held all his attention.     
     That does make him stop and turn to this…female.  Why didn’t he search her earlier with his sixth sense?    All he can read now is calm composer.  He knows he’s seen only one other with a composer such as this but it’s driving him insane that he can not remember whom.  It’s a sense of pure trust and that is not common for him.   He trusts no one.  Not even his two physical consorts Natira or Sikozu had his complete trust so why would he feel the comfort and trust with a hooded stranger who will not even talk to him?  
      Shoving the completed task from himself, carefully thrusts himself to stand.   Maybe it’s foolish on his part, but he needs space.   “Any issue with me stepping outside?”  
     The figure shakes her head, but does flick the fabric-brimmed hat down off the wall and hands it to him.     
      Placing it on his head he smirks, “Oh, so you do understand me?   Answer me this then, can you talk?”  
       Slowly the figure nods but doesn’t turn her focus from the grill before her.   So she can speak but chooses not to.   Fine, he will deal with that for now.   Carefully he makes his way to the door and opens it.   The sun is low on the horizon on the opposite side of the cabin thus it’s not too hot out here and the sun’s rays will not be too harsh on his delicate skin.  Looking down to the three flat stone steps he sees his bare ankles and feet.   He’s still in a night shirt and bare footed.   For all intents and purposes:  NAKED.   The terrain out there looks somewhat tender but with his feet having been in boots for so long and his body having been in a cooling suit for even longer, this just feels so… odd.  Stripped, exposed, utterly vulnerable…  
        His guardian must have sensed his hesitation in the open doorway, for he finds a pair of soft skinned moccasins set on the second stone step for him to slide into.   They even look the right size for his feet.   This time he looks to her, “Did you make these for me?”  
         The eyes change to a grieved look he knows all too well and the head slowly shakes twice before turning back to the meal. Oh so she hasn’t always been alone.   The black cycle-circle mark on the calendar.   He looks back to her but she is focused on her task and takes no notice of him.   Such a mystery and yet a comforting presence, that just boggles his poor tortured mind even more.    
  
       Rather than let that drive him crazier, he takes the step down into the soft foot coverings and onto the stone path leading around the sun-down side of the cabin.   He leans one hand against the wall and follows the path that rings the cabin.   The ground is tilled and a decent size garden has fruit and vegetables in various stages of maturity.  So this is how this woman has been spending her days.  Tomatoes, corn, strawberries, the beans he prepared and so forth.  A nice variety that would make many a farmer quite jealous.  They all seem healthy and vibrant as well.   He can even hear the soft clucking of chickens somewhere around another side of the cabin, but he hasn’t the energy to make the full lap around the cabin today.   Near the hammock he sees a good size round table with a tight piece of animal hide tying it down taught underneath.  There’s only two chairs also with hide-lashed seats between the wooden frames.   Someone had done some incredible work to create this.  Sinking down to one chair he also finds it quite comfortable.   Someone is a master craftsman.   These would have been quite nice in his Commander’s Quarters.  
      A mournful sigh escapes… that was a life time ago.   A dead life ago.  He plops his chin into a palm-cup elevated by a elbow to the arm rest to look out on the horizon and the distant lake with a well traveled path leading to it.  
      He knows he should be freaking out about not being in his cooling suit and the rods in his head, but for right now, he just doesn’t get a damn.   It’s too hard to think.   There are so many questions in his head that he just hasn’t a clue as to which one to solve first.  
     That lake holds his focus pulling his mind from the jumble of questions that try to clog his sanity.  The swaying of the reeds, the rolling of the soft waves…  
  
       A soft thick blanket is laid in his lap and then a steaming hot meal placed before him.   Pulling his head from the distant mystery to the one before him, he reaches out and takes her wrist this time.  She jerks and flashes of terror in her eyes makes him quickly release.  
      “I’m sorry, I just wanted to ask you to sit with me, please,” he does honestly apologize.  
       She gives him a soft nod and returns to the cabin to gather her own meal.   He folds his hands in his covered lap and waits for his host.   Not only does she return with her own meal, but a pitcher of tea.   As she sets it down, his throat constricts seeing the carved flower in the outside of the pitcher.   Crystherium Utilia (Bird of Paradise) plant but the blossom is blue instead of fire-orange this time.   If possible, he pales even more.  
      “Scorpius?” his chosen name is whispered on the breeze.  
      His head shoots up and stares at the woman, but she has dipped her head into her meal.  “D-do you know who I am?”   
      Silently she nods and continues to eat.   When she sees he isn’t eating, she takes his hand and puts it over the fork.   Taking the silent order to fuel his own body, he does so.  So much… taste.  His tongue savors every bite and the sips of cool tea under the dusking light.  
      When finished with her own meal, she takes her dishes inside and returns with an oil burning lamp under painted glass.  She has wrapped herself up in a soft cloak and brings another around his thin clothed shoulders.   Settling down into the chair she brings her knees up to her chest and wraps herself tighter.  Her face is not directed at him though but to the last remains of the day’s light.   Only a distant haze of orange and red over the horizon of a wooded hillside.  
       Scorpius pulls his own warmth tighter around himself.   Warmth is not something he normally needs.   Constantly he tries to cool himself but this time he is trying to fight off a chill?   That’s just… odd.  
      “You said my name earlier, didn’t you?”    She only nods pulling the fabric closer to hide her expression.  He continues to slowly eat.   It’s a lot for his system to get used to again.   Not only has he been used to processed space-rations, but he’s also apparently been in a coma for a few weeks.   Certainly a lot for his systems to go through recently on top of his mind hungry to get questions answered.     
     “I’m quite confused and out of sorts here on top of being completely at your mercy.   I don’t know what you are expecting from me in return, but I’m not worth much to anyone other than to be a corpse.   More people want me dead than alive.   They would rather I …”  He doesn’t go on seeing that she isn’t paying attention to him at all.   Sure it should piss him off that someone would ignore him but it only adds to the mystery of this woman. So he returns to his meal.   
  
     Finishing all that he can handle, he sets his fork down across the top of the plate civilly.   He leans in weaving his fingers together over the plate and she can feel his presence is closer, thus she stiffens in the soft lamp light.  
      “Fine, you won’t tell me what you have planned for me and you won’t tell me about yourself.   Then answer me this, why am I not dying of heat delirium?   Why am I functioning outside my cooling suit?  Why am I actually chilled?   It makes no sense.”  
      One arm stretches out towards the lake.  
       Scorpius turns to look at the large body of water fed by a small rocky water fall.   “The lake is the key to my body being able to regulate it’s temperature?”   Her arm pulls back and presses her hand to her own chest.   That furrows his brow, “What do you mean?   Please the mystery is boggling.  Just give me some damn answers since we both know you and I can communicate.”  
        She rises and to take his dishes but he grasps her wrist again to keep her from running off.  This time she shrieks and yanks away from him in fright.  The shriek pierces his soul making him release her just as quickly.  It’s not a Sebacean sound but a female Scarran shriek of fear!   That sends his pulse racing with a stab of his own fear.    “Who are you?!”  
       “N-nobody!”  She grabs the dishes and dashes back inside.  
       Although it would be in his nature to charge after her and demand her to give him answers, he knows his body is in no position to put up a fight.   He can feel the meal is heavy and his body is still a bit weak.  Without his cooling suit, he most certainly can’t risk heating up right now either.  
        With that thought, slaps himself in the face and growls.   What has this woman done to him and who the hell is she!  
         He hears her dashing the dishes in the sink to get them clean and then a slam to the cabin door.  Grabbing the yoke and it’s pails, she stomps down to the lake in the all most full-moonlight .  
        The Sebacean-gentleman in him knows he should help and it frustrates him that his body is too weak to be of any assistance on something so simple as hauling water.  He doesn’t want to be a burden to anyone! (cracks his fist to the leather topped table).  
    Thrusting himself up right, staggers towards the cabin.   Tomorrow, this woman gets her bed back and he will be the one to sleep in the rustic outside where maybe he will be lucky and the elements or a wild animal will carry him away.   Furious, he stumbles and staggers his way down the length of the cabin to the facilities.    
     By the time he makes it back to the bed, he can hear the water being poured into each of the barrels at the corner of the cabin.  This is the longest he has been awake in days and as sleep pulls him under, he can feel the fatigue take control.   Helpless.  Hopeless.  Humiliated.  
  
~~~~  
       Morning light bathes him.  Blinking his groggy blue eyes into the late morning light, he listens to the sound of packing outside the cabin.   He doesn’t need a chronometer to tell him he slept late this morning, for he can see the sun is already high up in the horizon nearly striking noon-day.  
       He sits up to gather his wits and the cabin door opens.   She stops and gives him a twinkle in her bright jeweled eyes.  He smiles back seeing that she is in a good mood and then is that a blush before she turns aside?   It makes his heart laugh a little.   For so many officials he has squared off with to determine who is friend, foe, ally or assassin it’s incredible how much just the eyes can tell you.   That’s without even using his sixth-sense.  
       She taps the calendar pulling his attention to the wall.   He watches as she moves the red circle to what will mark today.   Then she picks up a new white circle and taps today.  Using her finger tip to count off a few days, she then hangs the white circle.   Four days after the yellow circle.   Ohhhh, he gets it now.   The yellow circles are full moons.     
        With a roll of her wrist, she motions him to the cabin door.   He slips off the bed and follows her to the open door.   There he sees a small two-wheeled cart filled with pottery, fresh produce and some woven baskets.   She points towards a break in the eastern horizon.  
       “You’re leaving but will be back?”    She nods.    “Does this have anything to do with me being here now?”     
     Viciously she shakes her head.   He scowls not believing her.   She stomps her own foot and scowls back to his distrust.  With a shooting dark look, turns back to the calendar and aggressively thrusts to each of the full moon marks and then back to her cart.   Now it’s his turn to feel bad.   Every full moon she takes her wares somewhere.  
      Lowering his head he softly states, “Sorry.”   Taking his chin in her hand, lifts it to face her again.   So he asks the next question a bit nervously completely at her mercy, “Will you tell them about me?”  
    Her hand caresses his cheek asking the question right back to him, does he want the other to know about him?   He swallows his pride and tells her, “Do what you must to survive.    I don’t want you harmed because of me but I also refuse to be a burden to you any longer.”  
     Even if all he can see are her eyes through the slit of fabric, they daw and humble.   For that she strokes his face once more a bit more tenderly before he turns out of the touch.  “Be safe,” he starts to step away but she catches his hand softly.  
      So he turns back and she places a small book into his hand.   Opening it, he notices it’s written in Peace Keeper tongue with instructions for things to be cared for around the cabin.  
     He gives her a rueful smirk, “Oh don’t trust me to stay out of trouble?”  
     Her warm red eyes roll and a small huff of amusement puffs the fabric from her hidden lips.  This time she is the one to turn away.   Picking up a last bundle she steps out of the cabin and to her cart just outside the fence.   She tucks it under a rope securing her stash before heading to the front of the cart and picks up the harness.  
    He moves swiftly, “Wait!   You’re leaving now?!”  
    Securing the harness to her body, she nods.   Before he can say one last thing, she tugs her cart and heads away.   Without a look back or a goodbye, Scorpius’ caretaker leaves him in silent solitude.   Dumbly, he just stands there a watches her walk away.   There’s nothing he can do.    
     Once she is out of sight, Scorpius finds his legs too stubborn to hold him up any longer.  Hanging onto the fence, he slumps down to one of the chairs under the afternoon shade.   That’s when he remembers he is still holding the journal in his hand.   Opening it, he sees that the first page is actually loose.   Pulling it out, he sees this is book is actually a journal.  
     He swallows hard reading the first line to the journal…  
  
 _My name is Alyssum.  I am a Peace Keep castaway project from stolen seed from Emperor Staleek no less and a donated Sebacean woman’s womb…._


	4. Chapter 4

Paradise IV  
  
  
    Scorpius reread the first entry of the journal again and felt his heart plummet.   She’s a half breed like himself.   Obviously of different parentage, but none the less, like him.   He’s not alone.  Covering his startled mouth, he turns back to where Alyssum wandered off to.   Could this be the reason she saved him?  Could this really be true that there is another successful breeding-experiment and from the Peace Keeper side, no less!?  
     A wealth of brand new questions begin to spawn in his head, but before he can grasp on to any one thought though, his stomach growls.  Oh, right, food.    The loose folded paper in his other hand flaps in the breeze drawing his attention.   Not only did she give him a list of chores to do (groan) but also instructions for meals, cleaning, and bathing.  
    He looks down to himself and has to agree with her, he does need to bathe.   It’s only been a matter of a few days that he has been able to stay conscience for a whole day’s cycle and yes, he does reek.  
    “Well I guess a good story will just have to wait a little while,” he pats the journal with a sigh of put-off.   He looks over the notes again and sees what he needs to do to prepare for bathing.   It’s not at all like his days aboard a ship where you just activate the controls and wa-la, a shower.   No, this will take time to stoke a fire and heat water….  
     Looking over to the two barrels at each corner of the cabin front he checks the notes again:  
  Water in the east barrel is straight from the waterfall and needs to be applied to the plants and used for cleansing of dishes and cloth.   The western barrel is from the lake itself and contains additional minerals and properties that our unique physiology can take in.   More than that, needs.   Use that for bathing and for meals.   It will kill the plants, but we need it for survival.   You will become sick if you do not ingest it several times a day.   I find the blue flower petals help with the taste of the alkali water.   Oh, that is the one plant that DOES need western-water once a day.  
  
    Scorpius looks it over once more.   So the blue Bird of Paradise plant thrives on this same alkali water that the Scarran body needs.   Intriguing.   This will need more research.   Well there is something to occupy his mind during the days.  First things first though is to get the water warm and into the tub.  
  
      Rising and taking the journal with him, he finds his legs stronger and his lungs breathing easier today as well.   His chest muscles must be healing from the blow he took during the crash.   Stopping at the doorway, he looks around but sees no sign of the crashed pod.  So just where did she find him and how far did she drag him back here?   And once more, why?  
      Stomach growls put all those thoughts away once again and he begins his preparations.    While the water heats on the wood burning stove, Scorpius eats a simple meal of fruit and left over bread.   He smiles seeing she has concealed a vacuum box inside the wood and stone cabinet.   There are several loaves of bread that will stay fresh for at least a week within this unit.   Maybe she does have cold storage too, he chuckles to the ingenuity mixed with humble primitive setting.   Eating he looks over the rest of her detailed notes.   She must have worked on this last night while he slept the night away.  
  
       Once the water is warm enough for bathing, he pulls the large table away from the wall which the ‘bathtub’ is stowed underneath and near the stove.   Smart move.   The water doesn’t have to be hauled very far and the tub has multiple uses.   Pouring the warmed caldron of water into the cut-down cargo container, he can see this Alyssum (and who ever she used to live with) are no simpletons.   Survivalists.   She may have been cast away, but she is no idiot.   Most certainly if she has survived here for fifteen years mental as well as physical strength have been granted to her.  
     Scorpius peels off the simple light weight night shirt and looks down at himself.   There are a few nasty bruises still healing here and there but it looks like nothing had been broken in the crash.   Well, maybe one rib, but that’s nothing too surprising it was quite a violent ending to the small craft.  What is surprising is to see his actual skin in the natural daylight.  His body still maybe lithe and have lost some muscle mass due to his convalescing, but wow.    He’s only used to seeing this much of himself only under misty-harsh florescent lights.   Not under the nature of a slightly yellow sunlight with real UV rays.   Yes it’s not direct sunlight through the windows but still…  He is very much a male.   For the first time in a very long, long time, he lets his hands touch his own body.  
     No gloves.   No cooling suit.   His skin actually FEELS.    Not just the tender skin of a naked chest or belly, but the palms of his hands as well.   When was the last time they touched anything naturally?   Yes Alyssum’s wrist, but that was a grasp, not a caress like this.   He’s not touching himself in a an arousal need, no nothing like that.    This is an amazement of his own form.  
     He is alive.   He feels.  He lives.   He lives?  
     A sigh pull of his stomach muscles in and then puffs all the air out of his chest.  With that, his hands splay down his narrow chest, trim belly, Scarran-boned hips and then fall to his sides empty.   Down he looks to his form.   So much of it is Sebacean but there are most certainly Scarran attributes.   The hips, the apex of the hips that used to please Natira and Sikozu, the thighs of a Sebacean but the tiny versions of Scarran footing.   Once more the diaphragm pulls in the air only to be expelled from the chest in a deep sigh.    
    He lives… like this.  
    The rustling sound of paper catches his eye again and he sees the journal on the counter’s edge.   A rueful smile pulls from his lips and he picks it up to set it on the table’s edge where he can reach it once settled into the warm bath.     
    Thoughtfully, Alyssum had left a change of clothing, a basket of soap and wash rag and even a thick piece of cloth to use as a towel.   Scorpius can feel his cheeks warm to her tenderness.   A tenderness that very few have given him.   Once more he can feel the ping in the back of his heart for someone but can’t name or picture them.  
    Shrugging the ping aside, he climbs into the tub and lets out a deep Scarran groan.   Oooh how his muscles love the feel of this warm water surrounding and supporting his healing body.   It feels so sinfully delightful.     He lets himself slide all the way under the water.    Feeling it cover his face and head-top he sighs delightfully.     Pushing only his nostrils and mouth up to the surface, makes the air exchange and back under.  
      The castaway enjoys the pleasure of this simple bath and soft scrubbing to his tingling living skin.   He can see what she meant by it feeling wonderful on his skin.  Already he can feel a difference.   Even with the soap scrubbing the dirt away, he can feel the elements of the water revitalizing his body.  
        
~~~         
    He’s not sure how long he sat there rejuvenating in a the water before he knew he needed to stop being lazy and get to work.   The journal is still sitting there practically calling him to read it, but he knows there will be time to read it after he gets a few other tasks completed.   The bedding most certainly needs to be washed as does the night shirt he’s been living in for who knows how long.  
      Rising out of the water, it makes him laugh to feel himself chilled.   An open and delighted laugh.   He picks up the towel and buries his face into it while trying to remember the last time he laughed in good humor.   Most certainly he has laugh, but most of the time it’s in disgust or mirth, not real humor.   This time it is a full fledged laugh of delight.  
     He scrubs the towel into his deep Scarran facial structure and then carefully around where the rod-assembly releases on the side of his head.   It feels odd.   Carefully he traces over it with his finger tip.   A new layer of skin is sealing over it!   If it opens, it’s going to hurt like hell and then some, but then again, maybe it won’t have to if he stays on this regiment of alkali water.    Turning while he pats down his bruised and healing rib, he sees the pitcher drying in the open window.  
       The blossoms are blue and purple with the pod being crimson red.   Ohhh, the water… the flower.   They are part of his healing process.   That broth she fed him must have come from the pulp of the bulb.   The blossoms are mere snacks and treats, but the bulb must have very real healing properties.   He can’t get away from the plant.  
       His finger reaches out to dip into the grove of the purple blossom… just like the one he used to have on his command carrier.   The one he sent away… his memory fails him at that point and he turns aside to finish his current tasks.  
       He finishes drying himself off to tuck the towel around his hips and reads her instructions for laundry.   Simple enough, (so he thinks), he sets more water to boil and stoke up the fire with a bit more wood from the pile next to the door.   What he hadn’t anticipated what how heavy wet linens can be on arm muscles that could barely lift a fork a couple days ago.  
       With a grunt and trudging to keep the wet sheets from dragging through the dirt, he gets them tossed over the fence to dry.   By the time he makes it back to the cabin to change into the dry clothes Alyssum had left for him, he’s exhausted.    It’s all he can do to dip the pitcher into the barrel and pour himself something to drink.   The water might be bitter, but it’s no worse than some of the burning intoxicating drinks he’s consumed in the past…a lifetime ago.  
       Leaning his hands on the stone counter he looks out to the fabric drying in the sun and then up into the sky.   Two completely different worlds, two completely different lives.  Which would he prefer?  Much the same question he has been asking about his heritage, on a bit reversed.   Which side would he like to kill more?   The one that created him or the one that betrayed him?  
   With a sigh he looks to the journal and decides it’s time to get some questions answered about his savior and shove his own painful ones aside once again.   So he gathers up a simple meal and heads back outside to the fresh open air that smells and feels so different than the confined life he had in vast open space.  That complexity makes him smile again as he settles down propping his moccasin feet up into the opposite seat and opening the journal to the second page.  
  
   My mother was a loyal Peace Keeper soldier who had a body strong and sturdy but with the grace of a master hand-to-hand fighter.   She may have looked imposing, but she could curl and strike in ways people didn’t think was possible.  Grace and tenacity.  
    She hated the Scarrans like most loyal Peace Keepers did for an unknown reason.   She had been told ….  
  
   As Scorpius read, he could very easily feel himself being drawn into the situation…  
  
    _“Officer Midge, we have a mission if you are willing to attempt it.   It could be life threatening though if you are caught or exposed.”_  
   The skilled and solid female officer curtly nods her head even though she is as parade-rest.    
    “We need someone to infiltrate the Scarran elite quarters and extract something,”  
    “It would be my privilege to do as ordered, Sir.”   The auburn braided soldier replies.  
    “Sit, Midge.   It’s not going to be that easy,” the Commander and Doctor motion to her.   They all sit at the table presented and the doctor takes a deep sigh.  
    “We know that the Scarrans are trying a forced breeding program on captured Sebacean women.  So far they have been unsuccessful, but we think we have a key that they don’t.”  
    “Permission to question?”   Midge raises a slight hand.   A soft nod is giving and the lower ranking soldier continues.   “Why do we want in on this idea?”  
    “We can’t let them succeed on something so… damaging.   If they are successful in creating a hybrid and are able to slip one of theirs into our ranks…”  
    Midge nods understanding, “So even though we must remain pure and untouched, we can not allow them to slip a spy in where we can not counter?”  
    The commander smiles, “Not only are you skilled, but also intuitive.   These are skills that could help you with this mission, if you decide to try.”  
    Midge’s head tips ever so curiously, “And just what exactly do you need me to extract?   One of their captured prisoners?”  
    The doctor slowly shakes his head, “No.   Scarran male semen.”  
    Midge grimaces for she’s sure the can’t mean from the source.   “Ahh, like from a lab?” She hopes.  Both higher ranking officers shake their heads and Midge’s professional stance slips to a rueful frown, “Yeah, didn’t think so.”  
    The officers respectfully give her a chance to back out but when she doesn’t turn green to the thought of getting this close to a powerful foe’s intimate fluids, they press on lighting up the table before them with their plan for infiltration.  
     “Emperor Staleek is celebrating his coronation day.   There will be plenty of dignitaries and other officials in attendance.   If you can get close to one of the elite and … do what you need to we have various collection devices to keep it viable once you get back.”  
    Midge then pokes a finger into her French braid, “Ah and what is your plan for me to even GET close enough to extract the sample?”  
    From there the Doctor and Commander go into the plan they had for a device to hide her actual biology.   The “jewel” that will be  riveted directly through her skin and attached to her sternum thus to get knocked loose and blow her cover will blend in with the ruby studded corset-style bodice costume, this will look like nothing more that a marked jewel adhered to her body.  No one will suspect it of being an image-changer device.  
     
    “We can hide your biology from their electronic scanners.  We can’t protect you if they used the heat-wave on you.   We can give you  fake papers, but it will be all up to you to conduct yourself.  I know you are trained as a foot soldier and not as an elite higher class  so if you feel you can’t pull it off let us know now.”  
    “Do you have any material I can read before I head out so I can at least learn some of the protocol and not get myself shot or turned into THEIR next experiment within the first five minutes?’  
   For the sense of humor under stress, the Commander grants her a chuckle.   “Of course.”  
   The Doctor chuckles as well, “Tell you what, let me get some scans and samples so we can finish the device.   While the technicians do their job, you can read.”     
    And that’s just what was done.  Needless to say, Midge passed out when the jeweled image-changer was punctured to her chest bone.  With next to no time to recover from the transformation of Sebacean to hidden-Scarran female of mid-elite rank, Midge now finds herself swathed in black leather and scattered red jeweled accents to her corset curves and the four strips of floor length leather that make up her skirt.  Her normally smooth tanned skin now is a pale grey leather-textured feel and look to it.  
    Carefully making her way through bejeweled room, Midge is quite surprised to see the only Scarran decked out from head to toe in red pointed leather slipping into a back alcove of the room.   To her well trained eye he looks like he is trying to hide.   Scanning the room swiftly she can see who from.  A female in a gilded hat of black and red is on the prowl.  Glancing back, the elegant and regal leader actually looks defeated in the way his head is hanging.   Midge may not like Scarrans but there is one thing she hates more, Cougars:  females out only for political exploits through sexual advances.     
     Yes it’s true she will have to seduce one of these males to complete her duty, but she’s not going to entrap him forever with blackmail and false promises.  That’s just, wrong.   If you want a position, you need to achieve it by your own merits, not ploy your way to the top.   Midge moves.  
     Sliding into the corner, she puts her back to the Emperor and faces the crowd.   Even the body guards are searching for him.  “Crouch, Sire,” she whispers. She can hear the female approaching and reaches back blindly to catch him by a hip spike and tugs down.  
      “It’s your job to guard him!  So how can you be guarding him if you aren’t BESIDE him.   You stupid oafs!”   The snobby female dictates.  
      The soft creak of expensive leather and slight pressure of bundled leather against the back of her calves lets Midge know the high ranking red official has followed her advice and sunk down behind her smaller stature.  
   Striding straight into Midge’s face, the arrogant one snarls and sniffs, “I don’t know YOU!”  
   Midge doesn’t budge and just casually sips her elegant drink.   This female is no different than some of the bullies in her class who used to like to make fun of her solid bone structure and call her a boy.   Funny, but now her taller, huskier frame is actually making her a formidable foe and a spy at the same time.   Makes her smile and take a bite of the Bird of Paradise blossom ever so slowly.   Then with an arrogant cant of her own head, retorts, “That’s fine.   I don’t know you either.   So I guess it’s a draw.”  
    Snobby thrusts her face into Midge’s, “If you see the Emperor, you BEST tell him I’m looking for him.”  
   Midge shrugs ever so lightly, “I’ll think about it. (another bite)  Oh, I did… not happening.”   Snobby growls and there’s a vibration at the back of Midges legs which translates to the powerful leader silently laughing.   To keep herself from losing it, bobs him slightly with the ball of her heeled boot.   He catches that heel.   Midge swallows hard and her face falls.   He lets the toe of her boot rest on the floor, but his glove-clawed thumb is pressing a soothingly circle into the hallow of her ankle.    He really appreciates her protecting him, and they don’t even know each other.  
    Snobby misinterprets the change on her face as fear and worry and takes advantage of it.   “Look at, Sebacean …”  she hisses it out as a cuss which would be all to funny to Midge if Staleek wasn’t soothing her right now in one of her hot spots.   “Let me make this clear, don’t cross me.   I have powerful allies who will not only strip you of your jewels and your garden, but will use your hide as my next wall covering.”  
    Staleek’s hand stops, Midge gulps down because he hasn’t let go.   This warm grasp just further undoes her.   He’s holding her footing securely-- under his protection.   Right now she is learning that not all Scarrans are as evil as told.  Staleek is not being a wimp in hiding, there’s just times that this position is too much and weighs too heavy for even his proud and strong spiked shoulders to carry any more.  
     Midge sips to drink to wet her throat and then presses on, “I’ll have the plaque engraved for your new decoration, ‘The one that wouldn’t bow to the bitch’.    Kill me if you need to, I’m a soldier dying is why I do, but I do not cave to pettiness, so save your breath and move on to someone who will give you the attention you want.”    And with that, looks past Snobby catching a bodyguard’s eye.     
     The guard is used to being stoic and holding his tongue in political functions but this is just, wow.   It’s one thing to protect your leader physically, its another to protect his time and energy.   With a flick of his eyes down, he lets Midge know, he sees a hint of the Emperor’s regal attire.  With ever the slightest of adjustment, Midge slides that foot out of the clawed hand and plants it on the ground in a firmer and wider stance.   It blocks the Emperor further and also makes her look more imposing even if her low cut bodice is not fighting attire.  
      With a snort and a huff, Snobby turns on her heel and shoves the guard out of her way.   With a smile to his dark lips, he approaches, “M’Lady, I shall take over now.”  
      He stands beside her and gives her a warm smile.  She doesn’t move but does continue her drink.   She hands him the rest of her crystal decanter of blossoms, “In that case you are going to need these more than I.”  Chuckling ever so slightly, he takes it.  
   Their tall regal leader rises and places a light clawed hand to Midge’s sturdy but very much female hip, “Would you please accompany me with a walk?”  
   Rolling her head to the back to look up she tries to tease, “Are you sure you should trust me?   You don’t know me.”  
  The claw slips further forward with a warm guiding push, turns it towards him, “If you truly hated me, you would have left me there to writhe in her torture.   The kindest thing you could do right now is plunge a dagger into my chest.”  
   Midge is melting in his soft words but deep strong tone.  His hand that wields power and control is guiding and asking for her soft company.  
    The guard helps her answer by lifting her glass from her hand and as the waiter passes, replaces the empty with two full ones.   Staleek winks to his guard and takes them both then nudges his crested head towards the secret door in this alcove.   “Good night, Sire,” the guard warmly encourages, “M’Lady I leave you in trusted company,” as if Emperor Staleek will be her body guard this time.  
    Midge is flattered and stunned.  With a special mark on the wall touched, Staleek walks through a hologram and leaves her to decide if she wants to follow.   She does.     
  
     Midge finds herself on a rooftop terrace bathed in moonlight watching the glimmering dragon-like scaled spine of the Emperor’s regal attire flex and sway ever so slightly in his glide.  Each one of those Bird of Paradise-like triangular scales swish and move ever so graceful in their nested link.   A graceful male sway.  His head is erect and proud but this time not for his titled-position, but for his private life.  
   This was the last thing she thought she would find on this mission.   She was here to milk a male an just herself back home.   She was not supposed to… understand a leader.   She was not supposed to… Care?   She swallows down her fears of getting lost between mission and the bigger picture of this ’man’.     
    Staleek stops at the lip of the roof where the view is over the vast city he rules.  Still holding a cut-crystal goblet in one hand between three claws, he uses that pointer-claw to silently and softly beckon her to enjoy the view at his side.   Using her best elegant glide, makes her way to his side and takes the goblet he offers.  Silently they look over the empire.   One as citizen, one as an invader.  One with a sigh of home, one with a sigh of wonder to all she knew.  
      He doesn’t say ‘thank you‘.   She says nothing back.   He doesn’t pull her into his conquest, she doesn’t lean in to impose on him.  They drink in the liquid, the sight before them and the warmth of silent comfort.  He reaches under and pulls the gloves and dress gauntlets off laying their long spiked limp forms on the waist high wall.  With a bare hand now, lays his neck back and releases his head crest as well to lay it with the other false spikes.   With a deep sigh, he gives her a smirk.  
     Seeing that he is releasing some of his regal appearance, she gives him an amused grimace and lifts a booted foot into to her palm.   She rests her hip to the wall for support and plucks the catches loose and lets the torture device clunk to the floor with a deep sigh of relief.   He leans his own hip to the wall and watches her to drop the second one as well while letting her head lay back and let the starlight bathe over her.  
     “Damn that feels so good,” she sighs closing her tired eyes.  
     A deep chuckle warms her even more, “Come here.”  
   That does roll her head back shooting him a curious but warning look.  He smiles shaking his head ever so slightly.   “No, not that.   Just trust me for a moment,” he offers and open palm.  
    She lays her own gloved one in his bare one, and he tugs gently.   To her surprise, he slips his other hand around her solid waist and lifts her ever so slightly so he can slide his booted feet under her bare ones.  Now she is quite curious, but he holds her respectfully to his stronger broader and warmer form.  With that graceful sway of his again, she finds he is dancing with her.   Her face flushes and plunks to his breast plate only to make him chuckle again.  
    “Isn’t that just what politics is all about?   A dance?  Gracefully and carefully moving ourselves around in circles to keep everyone in check.”  
    “Staleek, if you don’t like it than why be Emperor.”  
    His hand soothes up and down her spine, “I never said I don’t like to dance.”   She raises her head to look into his soft red eyes.   He pulls her hand over his heart, “I love my race and the advances we have made.   I love the potential we have, I just don’t happen to agree with every move that is made for those advances.   We don’t have to be barbarians in everything we do.   We have so much more potential and so much to offer of people would just listen to us.”  
    Midge’s own hand cupped behind his jeweled collar rubs a thumb into his nape.   Her heart is racing.   This wasn’t part of the plan at all.  She’s not supposed to sympathize with her enemy, she’s supposed to rob them and beat them.  
     “Please stay with me tonight.   Please don’t leave.”  
     She can’t believe she is saying this when the opportunity to complete her mission is right there within her grasp.  “I-I…can’t.”  
      He frowns but presses her hand to his heart a bit warmer.   “I don’t want a consort, I want a confidante.   Please, just… sit with me a while?”  
     Her brow furrows, “Y-you shouldn’t trust me.”  
     “Your heart is racing, you are scared.   If you were here to kill me you would be so calm and already have a shiv in my neck or spine.   If you were here to gain political power through sexual blackmail, you would have already made your advance.   If your partner is stealing the royal jewels right now, he won’t get far in hocking them for they are marked.   So, what is left for you to do to me?”  
     Her throat swallows hard, “Break your heart.”  
     “I don’t have time for love, but I could really use a friend.   Please, come enjoy the starlight and peace with me for a little while.”  
  
~~~  
  Scorpius’ jaw drops.   Staleek found comfort in the arms of a Peace Keeper spy.    He rolls over and continues reading.           


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> {Yes more Emperor Staleek and OC PK-spy Midge.}

  _Scooping up her boots, Staleek gives her a toothy grin and heads around the rim of the building.  Midge just gapes.  He just baited her!   An evil aristocratic Scarran just baited and played with her as if they were dating teens!   Lashing a hand out, she snags his gauntlets and crest padding after him.   With that charming grin of his --which she hates is now attractive and doing crazy things to her!-- turns over his shoulder ever so slightly. He broadens it seeing her dashing to catch up._  
   On top of that, he picks up his pace and she cusses to keep up with his longer stride.   He chuckles and reaches a heavily locked door.   Flaying his hand over a panel, the door locks snap back and he curls his claw around the door’s edge to pull it open.   By the time he has the door open enough to enter, she has caught up and stops.  
   The exposed opening shows this isn’t just any room of his living quarters.   These are his PRIVATE quarters.   A bedroom with a private desk and sitting area.   The inner-inner sanctum of the Emperor’s private life.  Midge actually backs up and his face frowns, hold her boots out to her.   “I understand you not trusting me.   It’s all too easy to believe the rumors of me taking just anyone into my bed….”  
    Midge shakes her head, “It’s not that.”   She bites her lip for a moment and then holds out his own discarded attire, “You shouldn’t be trusting me.”  
    His other hand reaches out to slide over her offered wrist, “I don’t know why, but I just do.   Please, it’s been so long since I’ve just had someone to talk to.  I’ll even leave the door unlocked if it will make you more comfortable.”  
     Her heart is racing.   She could fulfill her mission all too easily with the highest ranking Scarran of them all, if she plays her hand right.  But… she looks down to their touch, this just isn’t what she expected.  These are evil brutes with nothing more than elite barbarians.   They have no concept of peace or conversation.   Rape, plunder, pillage and take over.   That is the core of their being… not…  
  
      She looks up into those red eyes that are warm as a her own Peace Keeper blanket and just as comforting.   His blunt-clawed hand is cupping her wrist and running a soothing thumb over her misunderstood worries.   “I’m not scared of you, Sir.”  
       He takes a step closer to her to show her no malice.  “Then what are you scared of?”  
       She gulps, “Me.”  
       A little smile pulls his frown away, “Is that so?   And what are you going to do to me?”  
       ‘Fall in love,’ she tells herself, but to him, “I do not want to damage your reputation.”  
       He laughs and steps even closer, “I hardly think having a female in my private quarters is going to damage my reputation.   If anything, it might ease some things.”  
      Now that does make her curious.   “Why do you think that aristocrat bitch was hunting me down?   They’re on the prowl to have me take them or their daughters as mate.   Not a companion.   Not a friend.   A breeding partner and a title holder.   You being afraid to come with me, yet honorable to stand up for my personal time, I wish at least one of them had an ounce of that consideration.”      
   Her face flushes hot in embarrassment.  Not even one of her Sebacean courtiers had even had the decency to compliment her in such a fashion, but her enemy is showing it to her honestly and worse than that, she has given it honestly in return.  
     Sliding his hand away, he takes his red scraps and holds her boots out once more.   She takes the boots but lifts her chin, “Have you got anything soothing and warm to drink?   Nothing intoxicating, I’d like to remember this time tomorrow.”  
      Like a young buck on his first date, his face flushes back and he stammers, “Y-yeah, I think so.   Let’s go see together, shall we?”   And motions her inside.   It’s been a very long time since he has spent time with a female in such a simple yet deep way.  
       Inside he closes the door and tosses his removed garb onto the high dresser.  She sets her boots by the door and pads after him.  There’s a small table that holds a variety of drinks and snacks.   The Peace Keeper doctor had added an additional feature to the chest-jewel that would stave off any toxins that Scarran foods could harm a Sebacean body.   Her face scrunches though looking at the foreign crafts of colored liquids.   “I don’t recognize these.”  
      Staleek chuckles and pours two mugs adding in a couple tightly wrapped balls, “Watch,” he hands the warm mug over.   She watches the hot water release the petals from their balled-shape they had dried in.   Now, her cup has an open floating blossom in it and setting off the most aromatic scent of comfort.   He beams watching the delight on her own face, then takes a sip letting out an open , “Ahhhh, so good.”   Clearly he really needs a soothing drink at this time, too.  
        She giggles hearing the deep sigh and the whole large regal body just shed it’s tension away with just a simple cup of tea.   He cocks one brow at her in warning, but his warm smile completely counters the attempted menacing look, which only makes her laugh harder.  
      “Oh shut up and help me,” he takes her cup away and sets it down with his.  Turning his back to her, reaches into the collar, “Help me get this thing off.  It’s time I shed the Emperor and just be Staleek.”  
       Midge tries to reach up but the catches are above her sightline.  “I can’t see.   You’re just to damned tall.”  
        Chuckling he gracefully lowers.   Not to sit on the stool under the table, but all the way to the floor.  One leg crouched, grey knee parting the red robe-skirt panels balance on a ball of one boot. The other knee lowering further to touch the floor.  On top of that, he bows his neck down so she can see his exposed nape.   Emperor Staleek is knelt before her in his private domain.   Once more her chest hitches and her throat tightens.   This was not at all what she was expecting from the leader of her foe, but then again she never expected to be here.  Chest panging, she never expected to make it inside the Ball Room alive, let alone a private walk on the terrace and now… he’s knelt before her asking for her help to remove his royal confines.   There’s no seething anger in her heart for her enemy.   There’s no urge to kill the man that rules this empire that has killed so many of her kind.   No, there’s just this humble being before her no different than she right now.    
    Damn he is so elegant, fun, and dignified.   Yet here he is lowering and exposing himself to her.   Was it the electronic-jewel on her chest screwing with her emotions or was it really this male that was making her see him in a new way?    All she does know, is that it would be all too easy to cast her mission aside and remain his confidante…forever.  She looks away.  
      “I won’t bite, I promise,” he turns his head ever so slightly noticing her hesitation.  He also notices that she’s a bit stunned to see the titled leader in such a pose.   “Relax, tell me your name.   Your real name not the one that you are supposed to be called.”  
      Her throat practically closes off in fear of him knowing who she really is.    Lifting a hand from the floor, he pulls the top scale aside so she can see the catches and continues the conversation, “I’m going to guess you are not an elite, you stand more like a soldier, as I heard you say you are.  Are you trying to get in on my staff and because you are female kept getting turned away?”  
      Midge steps forward and lays her nervous hand to the catches, “Something like that.”   Her first release drops the heavy bejeweled collar into his waiting hand with a grunt of relief from him.   The next release starts the process of disconnecting the plated false-spine.  Crouching her self, she continues down the length of his curved back to release it the rest of the way where is stops at the tight base of his small.   From there is just hangs like a tail or another panel to his heavy robe.   “I was sent to test your staff, I didn’t expect…”  
      “To get through?”   he helps her answer when she fails to continue, but Midge says nothing more.   Standing back up, she takes the top of the zipper, and tugs down allowing the whole garment to come loose.   She stops at a position where she knows he will be able to release the rest on his own and turns aside to give him privacy to continue undressing.  
      Neither says anything as he steps into another room and closes the door.   Midge picks up her warm mug and heads over to a window seat.  With the dents to the padded cushions and tossed about pillows she can see this is actually used as a relaxing post.   She settles herself down and looks out.   Below her she can see the glass dome of sky lights to an area of the building.   Groups of Scarrans in conversation and such.   Further out though, she can see out over the city.   City lights twinkle much like the stars in the sky.  
         
    “Beautiful, in a way, isn’t it?”   The heavy male in soft cloth settles down by her feet with his own mug of tea.  
       She nods rubbing one foot against the other.   The arches of her feet are just caining.  Staleek sets his mug further into the window sill and takes one of her feet in his hands.   With expert touches, his larger warm paws rub and curl into her arch and the ankle.  Oh that is making her bite her lip bad, “Ohhh, yes.”  
      His smile lights up and his heart laughs.   Her moan was all to similar to one of a female being pleasured elsewhere.  Pressing in to that spot again she bites down harder trying not to let off another moan.   She fails, he laughs rather wickedly.  
      “Oh shit, Staleek, I want you,” her weakening resolve croons.  
      He continues and chuckle lightly.    Of all the things people have wanted him as a mate for, none of them were for the mere fact he could massage their feet into oblivion.  
       Midge’s mug clunks to the window sill, and her forehead presses to the cool window glass as her body goes limp.   “Tell me this, you evil bastard,”  she grimaces that it came out so venomously (he takes it all directed towards his touch though, not his race), “What do you really want to be?   I know you have been raised and groomed to be a political leader, but what do you really want to be?”  
       His hand cups the ankle and slides up the calf to massage that area too that pains in those boots, to which he knows all too well.  Her hand lays on his though to stop him, for he is lighting fires elsewhere that she is just not ready to deal with.   Respectfully his hands retreat, and pulls himself further up to the seat, criss-crossing his legs and laying her feet into his elevated lap.   On top of that, he tugs her leather skirt down to cover her respectfully.  
       He takes the hem of one strip and plays with it, “A masseuse.”  
       Midge pulls her brows together figuring him to tease her.   He flushes and laughs at her silent rebuke.  Flaying one set of slightly curled claws down his imposing physique, “Yeah right,  look at me.   I’m a warrior class and on top of that,” taps his brain, “political smarts.   I want peace at almost all costs.   Maybe the simplest thing is to massage the woes and pains out of one person.   The first time I had a massage I thought I had died and gone to heaven, on top of that, I saw the peace on the masseuses face in giving me peace.”  
     With that, he shrugs and dips back into his tea.   Midge looks at this deep and warm being before her.   He really does care about his people.   This isn’t just about power.  
    “They’re all wrong about you.”  
    He well trained warrior’s face looks so cute peeking over his mug to catch her tawny eyes doeing and the smiling- pout to her own lips.  
     “What of you?”  He banters back.  
  
……and so the conversation goes late into the night.   Midge is careful in telling the truth of her heart even if some of her facts have to be slightly skewed to fit Scarran culture and not Peace Keeper.   The truth is laid out though: Staleek is a fascinating person with deep respect and warmth and a great sense of humor.    
  
     Staleek is not sure if it was the third of four cup of tea he brought back to her in the window seat, but upon his return, she has slumped against the window:  asleep.   His own tired shoulders slump.   The one question he didn’t ask her:  where is she staying?     
      He knows he can’t leave her to sleep in the window seat, it’s just not long enough to be comfortable for the night.   He also knows she should change out of her dress attire, but to do so would mean to undress her and he hasn’t the heart to see her naked.   So a compromise must be met.   He sets the mugs into the window ledge and scoops her smaller but warrior frame into his arms.   Taking her to his large bed, he lays her on one side on top of the blankets.  He takes the heavy top cover and folds it over the top of her.  It would raise too many questions if he was to sleep elsewhere so he just shuts off the lights and slips himself between the two sheets and under the second blanket.  
     Sleep evades him though.   Rolling to his side he is facing her covered back and can’t stop himself.  Spanning his hand, reaches out to touch her when she mumbles a negative response, thusly he stalls and drops it between them.   He’s not sure how long he ponders the person he brought to his bed so easily and intimately, but eventually his lids fall closed.  
  
~~~  
     With the rise of the morning light, Midge is awoken by a delightful smell and a grumbling stomach.   It takes her a few blinks to get her eyes to focus on the room.  She can feel a warm being behind her and cringes.   A voice causes her to stiffen like playing dead.  
    “Sire, I brought your favorites and your adjusted schedule,” the guard from last night, Midge identifies even though she can’t see him.  
   A morning-husky voice from her bed-partner acknowledges the trusted invader, “Thank you, Malf.”   The soft clinking of dishes is heard set on the table that provided their drinks last night.  
    “Shall I set up for you,” Malf respectfully ask his master.  
   The heavy warm male sits up and shakes his head, “No that will be fine, I can take care of it.   Go get yourself something, you and I will need to talk later.”  
   “Very well, Sire.”   The door closes softly behind the bodyguard’s retreat.  
   Knowing they are alone now, Midge rolls to her back and pays close attention to her situation.  Still clothed, wrapped up so her body does not directly touch her partner’s, yet in the private quarters of an Elite Scarran.   “Shit,” she whispers.  
   A deep chuckle comes from the upright male and he turns to look over at her with a comical expression, “Well good morning to you, too, Midge.”  
    She pulls the blanket over her face in further humiliation, but he just laughs lightly and pats her covered leg, “Breakfast has arrived, would you like to shower or eat first?”  
     Muffled under the blankets she retorts, “Can’t I just die?”  
     That makes him rise and come round to slip a blunted claw over the lip of the blanket and tug until he sees one eye, “No, for I am in no mood to explain a dead female in my bed today.  So eat or clean?”  
     “I hate you.”  
     With an absolutely wicked teasing smirk he presses with a sultry tone, “That’s not what you said last night.”   If it was possible, her lone eye just blushed, lighting his laughter up.   He steps back and heads over to the tray.     
      Midge groans for it’s perfectly clear that nothing happened last night, yet his tease shows that their conversations went far deeper than any physical contact ever could.   Pushing herself to sit upright, she cheekily steals his pillow to recline her head against while hers supports her lower back.  Her blanket covered knees pull up against her chest  and she rests her arms across them.   “So what are your plans for me, Sire?”  
       Popping a morsel in his mouth he mumbles, “First of all, there are no titles permitted in this room.  Secondly, I want you on my guard staff.”  
     “And if I refuse?”   She tosses back.  
     His fork clatters to the tray.   No one has ever refused an appointment he tried to give. “Why would you refuse?  I thought that was your mission, to get into my guard and now I‘m granting it.”   He watches her face closely looking for any signs of betrayal.   As a politician he is always on guard for a devious plot, even here in his private sanctuary.  
      Yes, why would she?   How can she explain this to herself let alone him?   Her mission values have gotten skewed in the matter of one night and one gentleman’s morning.   Sure she could use her new position to obtain the material from someone else, but…   She looks deep into those questioning and pained red eyes.   He found something he doesn’t want to give up:   Her.  
       Abandoning breakfast, he comes back to her and sits on his side of the bed.   A strong hand cups her smaller cheek piercing her with his searching gaze.  It’s not a crushing grip but it is firm enough to either go crushing or softening.  “Talk to me.”  
     He easily could kill her right now.   Or she might be able to fulfill her mission and run.   Or… she could find the peace and comfort that both of them have wanted for so long by abandoning her mission.  Her heart whispers with her throat closes, “I told you not to trust me.”  
     Staleek might be older than her, but he is no fool.   He knows there is a reason his heart has waited so long to take a mate.   The way she is not running but warning him shows her purity and loyalty to him privately.   His grip lightens and the thumb strokes her hidden cheek, “Too late, Midge.”  
     Hearing her name off a soft Scarran tongue kills her mission.  Maybe she never was the right person for this Peace Keeper mission, but possibly she could be the person to end this war.  Right then, she decides on a new mission:  one of her heart.    
     He pulls her chin closer and presses his lips to her forehead.  “Fine, you won’t be my bodyguard, will you still stay by my side, Confidante?”   For that she silently nods.  
  
~~88~~  
     Scorpius flips back to the front page and then back to what he was reading.  When he had started reading, he thought he was reading Alyssum’s handwriting.  Yet with a second look, he sees the slight variances: this is Midge’s handwriting, not her daughter’s.   He may have been in a coma for a few weeks but his memory is not completely fried.   He searches and searches through his mind.  For he had taken careful research into anyone who was on espionage duty with the Scarrans for he needed any and all of it for his Wormhole research.   Any information he could obtain by any means, he used.   Midge, Midge…. His brain racks.   If this PK spy was really able to get this close to the Scarran leader, how come there is no mention of her in PK files and why has there been no mention of her in underground Scarran mutterings?     
    Can this story actually be true?   He takes a deep drink of his tea and then turns the page.  Oh my…..           


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Staleek the lover.

  
     _Midge gulps as he lets her chin go, “Good.   Now, you must eat and I will get you attire fitting to be beside an Elite.”_  
   “A standard military attire should be fitting,” she some how gets out.  
  With a wiry smirk he says nothing more instead choosing to return to preparing their breakfast.  She accepts his offering and he settles down with her on the bed with his own breakfast.  
    “I want you with me.   I don’t trust some of the members of my council, and I appreciate your forwardness.  We could use a bit more of that.  Instead of the games, let’s get down to work and solve real issues like our growing population‘s needs and protection of our boarders.”  
     Midge nods and promises to do her best.   That’s all he could ask for.   In return, he asks that she stay by his side… always.  
     She chokes understand he wishes for her to live here with him.  Seeing her reaction, he actually blushes, “Sorry.”  
     Her hand reaches out and clamps down, “I’m honored, and of course.”    
  
     With that, the friendship goes even deeper.   Over the next week they find themselves inseparable.   Even the bodyguards find it warming to see their Master relaxing and comfortable.   They can’t be his confidante, but they know he needs one and hope that maybe this will lead to even more…. A mate?   Even if the council does not approve, his guards do.  
     The nights start off nervous, but more and more, she finds he needs her comfort as much as she need to know she is protected.   She is the one to slip herself beneath his blanket, lift his arm, and slide herself against him.   Midge has never slept with a man before.   A one time quickie is not sleeping.  Staleek presses his lips to her head top and just holds her close.  
~~~  
     
    Their first kiss came about as a surprise to them, but not to the guards.  Staleek is livid and furious by the actions of the days events.  On the roof top terrace, he roars into the afternoon sky.  
     “Better?”   She asks.  
     In a grump he snorts, “Not really.”   His throat snarls.   As much as that animalistic sound should scare her Sebacean side, she actually finds it a bit of turn on.   He catches the darkening look in her face and then the flush as she tries to hide the fact she was staring at his rage.   He looks down at himself, oh.   Yes he does look a bit more imposing with his swelled and panting chest, his wider stance and clenched fists.  
      For fun, he lets off that curling snarl again.  Her chest hitches.   Light steps and he does it again.  Her cheeks are on fire trying not to look at him.   The beast in him does it once more.   This time though, softer and against her throat.  
      “OooO,” she whimpers giving in to him seeing her attracted.  
      “You knew this was coming.   I knew it too.”   With one hand, he turns her face all so softly to face him.   Unlike an animal though, he will not take her.   He will wait for her to give.  Her hand lifts to his cheek as her face lifts into his range.   That’s all he needs and places the lightest kiss on her lips.   Not at all what she expected.  
       Slowly he kisses her giving her all chance to back away if need be.   She doesn’t.   As much as she had been raised to despise and hate this evil Lizard-like race, this man before her is more wonderful than many a Sebacean male she has met.  
       The soft purr he gives off this time while rolling his lips against hers, makes it clear, he cherishes her.   He’s a bit concerned this change in their relationship could change the other half.   Her hum and tighter press into those rolls let him know, it can’t.   This can only make them better.  
       Finally he pulls back and just looks down at her with his own flushed face.   “I-I’m sorry, Midge.   I forgot we are supposed to meet someone for lunch.”  
       “Lunch is good, Staleek.   Is dinner private tonight?”   His head shakes and she pouts.   Dinner parties can be so exhausting.  
       “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”  
        She tugs his chin in a teasing way, “You better.”   Like a youngling, he gives her a bashful smile back and tucks her hand ever so romantically to his elbow as they make their way round to the luncheon meeting.  
         
         That night she falls asleep as soon as her head hits the pillow.   Morning brings her round to the nuzzling of a warm male scent.   Her body instantly reacts to the attention and the soft hands doing dangerous things to her.   A moan escapes against her will.   Instead of making fun of her, he replies with his own.   A gasp when he cups and fondles sensitive spots turns her eyes so dark and melts him further.  
        In moments, she finds they are both stripped bare and her hands are roving over his solid and impressive form.   The most incredible sounds and tastes come from him.   No one told her that Scarrans are the masters of love making…  
      Scarrans… Sebaceans….   Rival races…. Missions… war…   
  
  Nearing a hurring-curl, he ruts his nose lower, “You smell like a Sebacean in heat,” and nips into the softness of her splayed hip joint.    
  Midge might be high off his sensuous touches and nipping-licks, but she’s with it enough to ask, “Do I even want to know how you know this?”  
    For that he only chuckles and nips a bit lower letting off a devious swipe.   She groans to him taking away her rational thought.  “Oh Midge, you are delicious!”   His hands cup around her lower spine, lifting his head ready for the final assault that will render her helpless.  
     Midge knows she is in way over what her heart can handle.   Yes her body is crying out for more of his touches and warmth, but it’s more than that.   Her heart wants him far longer that this jewel can provide.   She just can’t stand the thought of breaking his heart.  
    “Staleek, what if I was?”     
     He only laughs harder and moves to quash all thoughts from her mind except for his love making.   A firm hand cups his sharp chin stalling his plan.   
      That pulls his brows together and eyes to focus on her worried face, “Midge, what is it?”  
      She swallows down her bile and tries to get her heaving chest to calm, but it won’t comply.   “Please, Staleek, what if I was a Sebacean spy?”     
      With a grunt of disappointment to his seduction being sidelined, he knows he won’t get any further until he deals with her fear.   With another deep sigh, he pulls himself to all fours and stalks himself over her.   Still there is great fear on her face and the chewing of her lip.   “Stop listening to the jealous driven rumors going on behind your back, Midge.  I don‘t listen to that drin.  I know you.”  
      With his most compassionate smile, he drops his elbows beside her shoulders, pinning her hips with his knees, and cups her head with his large warm hands.   “Fine, you’re a Peace Keeper Spy that you keep telling me not to trust.   Then why do you lay with me?  Why do you listen to my silly hopes for my people?   What is your purpose, for it certainly isn’t assassination?”  
       His soft touches are as devastating as his amorous ones.   These are worse though because he is trying to console her.   She answers back, “What if I don’t care about the mission anymore?”  
      He lowers himself even further seeing how this conversation is going to go longer than he planned.   Still he strokes and calms her fears by playing out this scenario.  “What would make a narrow minded race’s spy give up their mission?”  
      “You.”  
     He gives her a rather rakish grin, “Ah and what has the Emperor done to throw you so far off track, traitor?”  
       It’s her turn to touch him so sweetly, “Not Emperor, just Staleek.   Dear sweet deep and wonderful Staleek.”  
       His hand stills taking in her sweet compliment of love.   It’s almost enough for him to believe her story.   The real him has enough power to throw off a skilled and trained infiltrator‘s objective?  Quite the compliment.   Yes it’s true that over the past couple weeks they have become so much closer and tighter otherwise they would be here now ready to consummate their desire for each other.   “Say it, Midge,” his hand slowly grazes over her head letting her know her heart is just as safe with him as is his with her.  
      “I’m in love and I….,” there’s a prevalent fear.  
     “Shhh, it’s alright Midge, it’s safe to love me.”   He’s trying to let her know he will never betray her.  
      She yanks her head away, “No, it’s not.”  
      Turning her head back, his smoldering eyes bore into hers, “Become my mate.”  
      She knows the jewel will not last long enough to allow that official ceremony nor sustain an eternity together, but nor does she want to lose this moment.   Her heart is breaking because she can not stay and yet he loves her just as intensely as she love him… if not more..  
       “For tonight I will be your mate,” her voice finally warbles out.  
       His voice drops to a promise, not an order, “After tonight, you will change your mind and say forever.”    
     His mouth drops down to capture and swallow all her fears away.  Midge easily allows him to do this for her, latching her hand to his nape and pushing back.  She feeds him her worries, and he pressing his protection right back.  
     Down and down his kisses taste and memorize her body.   At the jewel he licks around the edges and then teases by asking while his hands tantalize and fire up other parts of her body, “What is your mission, oh Peace Keeper Spy?”  
      Completely drugged by his seduction, she moans out, “To extract Elite Scarran seed and take it back for research.”  
       A hungry growl curls out of his throat in desire to consume the female beneath him, “I shall help you fulfill your mission, Spy.”   
       And prepares the injection.  Midge gasps and stiffens.   There’s just some things this projection can not hide.  Her Sebacean body is still smaller that his and it will be a  challenge to accept him.   His own body notices the hardship this copulation will be for them and does not want to hurt her.   The last thing he can handle is rending his lover in two with his passion.  Pain pricks his eyes seeing her grimace in her own pain.  
      “Shhh, hold on., I have an idea.”  Retreating, he rolls to his back and pulls her astride him.   “Take me at your pace.   We have all night and all day tomorrow… and forever.”  
       Midge can hold back no longer and her tears break forth knowing they do not have forever but wants this more than anything.   She will NOT hand his seed over to another, she is going to keep it for herself.   She prays that fate and the power of love will allow this heat cycle to work and maybe…. Just maybe she can come back to him as herself and he will accept her.   Maybe… just maybe this love can be strong enough to heal this war.  
   Clamping her own passionate kiss to his lips, her body slowly takes him.  With grunts and moans of ecstasy, she pushes past the physical pain.   Her breaking heart hurts more than her body anyways.   For she knows she only has a slim chance of this actually working and even a slimmer chance of coming back to him.  
    Screaming his name at the top of her lungs, her body receives his gift and begins the process of a new future.   Spent, she collapses across his broad chest holding tightly to his rib sides.  
      A light tap on the bedroom door lets them know the guards heard her cry.  She is too tired to grimace, but Staleek nuzzles her and gives a soft reply to the guards.   “She’s fine and we will not be going out tomorrow.”  
      “Of course, Sire, understood.   Good night.”   This is clear that the guards will retreat to the outer rooms and give the couple more privacy.  
  
        As promised, the couple spend the night and the next day together in the private quarters bathing and love making as if they are newly mated.   Staleek reins his caresses and desires over her again and again.   Once during their love making she mewls her desire to give him an heir and she could swear his heart burst open coating her in a radiating passionate gift so much like the heat projection-pulse.  In this case, instead of a weapon of heat, it’s an encompassing grip of wrapping love.   Her body hitches to his pollination this time and refuses to retreat instead clutching her tightly as they fall asleep.  
  
~~~  
      The sound of pulse-blast-weapons awakens the entwined lovers.  Staleek presses her to the bed covering her with his own body.   Midge shivers knowing what is happening.   They have come for her.   Clamping her claws into his back she tells him over and over again how much she loves him with everything she has.    
       The bedroom door burst open and the Emperor can see his guards have died for his protection.  Thrusting a hand out he pulses his heat wave at the intruders.   The second wave of warriors duck under the blast and leap to the bed.   With a crack to the side of his head, the heat wave pulse dies and the Emperor moans slumping down.   With a shove, they push him off his lover.  
         A second crack to his head leaves him bleeding and pleading as they rip his mate from the bed.   She fights but in her tired state, she is in no position to give a full fight back.   She screams his name.   He moans for her, but can’t save her as the intruders shoot him again with a debilitating weapon.  
      The extraction crew believes her cry to be part of the act.   They have no idea that her plead is coming straight from her heart.   As they bind and drag her away, the jewel reaches it’s end.   Through double vision, Staleek sees his short term mate’s image flicker between a lovely Scarran warrior and a stocky Sebacean female. One thing remains the same: the pleading and undying love in those tawny eyes.  Staleek drags himself along the floor trying to crawl after her, but to no avail.   They kidnap his beloved and he can do nothing to stop them.  
       The last image Midge has of her love, is him reaching a clawed hand out from the floor and bellowing her name down the halls.  
    Once into the halls, the lead officer of the extraction team, whispers, “Good acting, Sergeant.   We’re almost to the shuttle.   It had to be done this way since we figured you were trapped and couldn’t get out.   But hot damn, nailing the Emperor.   Well DONE!”  
     Midge falls limp and silent.   Now becomes the real act.   Undercover with Staleek she had been honest and pure.   Returning to her people, she will have to put on her act.  They drag her behind a pillar as a string of Scarran soldiers rush to their Imperial Leader’s quarters hearing him cry out in a roar.  Midge grabs the vibrant silk tapestry of the sacred flower and wraps it around herself.  
      The lieutenant of their group addresses Midge, “I’m sorry, but this is going to hurt.   We must disengage the jewel completely.  Hands to your side and hold still.”   To her surprise, he cracks his fist to her chest and the device shatters falling to the floor leaving only the rivets.   It also knocks all the wind out of her chest and she slumps forward.   That he expected and catches her, “I’ve got you.   Just lean on me.   It won’t be long now.”  
     The rest of the trip becomes a daze as the team makes their way to the cloaked ship.  Once on board, Midge is handed a uniform to change into and she huddles down into her seat rubbing her chest.   Not from the blow of the broken device, but from being ripped out of the arms of a true love.   As much as she would like to cry, she knows that will have to come later in privacy.  Instead, she feigns sleep to remain passive and left alone.  No one bothers her.  
    
~~  
      As soon as they land, the officer in charge of her mission along with the lead scientist whisk her away to their lab.  “So I will remove the vile you-”  
     She shakes her head and lies, “There was no chance to secure the vile.   I didn’t have a chance.”  
     “So what did you do?”  
     Midge takes a deep breath and lies, “I sacrificed my own body for the mission.   If I’m right, I am the host.”  
     The Colonel and Doctor blink to her brazenness, then runs the scan.   “Yes, you are impregnated.”  
     Her heart lifts knowing she carries Staleek’s heir but also pangs knowing they will try to steal her child.   She remains rigid and professional, “Sirs, if I may… for the sake of the mission, let the embryo remain and I shall complete the process.   From there, we can determine the next course of action.   If the embryo is safe and secure, no need to risk a loss due to transfer.”  
    The Colonel smiles and pats her shoulder, “Soldier you are a credit to the Peace Keepers.   Not only have you risked much by going under cover and sacrificing your safety to procure the sample but now you are willing to sacrifice your body?”  
     “I just want to see the mission completed successfully, sir.”   Midge is quite surprised she can keep this even and not give away her true feelings.  
     “Doctor, what do you think?”  
     “Sounds the safest, but I have to warn you soldier, you could die in the process.   The Scarrans have lost many a female in the process.”  
     “It doesn’t matter.   If I die, I have died for the cause.   What greater sacrifice can be made?”… she lies.  
   The Doctor and Colonel giver her praise and then send her off to the showers to scrub the ‘stench of Scarran taint’ from her body and then to bed to get some rest for their growing project.   With a curt salute, she follows their orders.  
  
     Alone in a private shower, she lets her silent tears mix with the water.  Not just for her own broken heart, but for Staleek’s as well.   Her hand pans over her belly where his heir is grown.   Midge knows that after this tearful release, she will have to be strong.   If her plan is to get back to Staleek and possibly end this war with their love, she will have to be cunning, healthy and make careful plans.     
     One of her questions is weather to go to him now or wait until the child is born?   That she will give herself a little bit of time to plan.   For the child has barely been conceived, and needs to be more firmly attached before she can move to the second phase.   Besides, how will she get back to him?  
      Regretfully, she scrubs the last scents of Staleek from her body and steps back into her Peace Keeper Persona and uniform.  
   
~~Time passes~~  
     There isn’t one embryo but two: one male, one female both healthy and viable to the surprise of everyone but Midge.  She knows that the one factor the Scarran experiments didn’t have: consensual binding.   As her belly expands, so the security tightens.   Her chances of escaping dwindle.  
    The Colonel in charge of this project begins making plans for the care and raising of the twins.   Once more Midge injects her ideas.   “Let me raise them as their mother.   If your plan is to send them undercover and infiltrate the Scarran people, let me be the one to show them the truth to the Peace Keeper ways.   Let me be the one to show them the loyalty of the Peace Keepers so that they will not turn their backs on us once inside the Scarran world.   After all, of all people, I lived as a Scarran and can give them the best understanding.”    
     Seeing solid reasoning behind her idea, the team gives their consent and she sighs happily knowing she will be raising her children.   
  
~~~  
    A few days after the birth of the twins, word comes that Emperor Staleek has taken a mate from one of the rival elite houses.   The playback of the ceremony is very solemn and serious.   Although the birth of the children had been fairly easy considering their size, her emotional-heart dies.   Crawling from her bed, she vomits up her crushing pain.  She saw something that no one else did in that recording.   Staleek is broken, too.   He does not want this merging of houses.  His heart isn’t in it, but he has to for political reasons seeing how his honest love has been stolen from him.   There’s a far off look in his eyes as if he would like to be anywhere but at that regal and elegant ceremony with someone else.   In the telecast, nothing is mentioned of the private attack to his personal quarters that took the lives of four of his closest guards so many months ago or of the lover kidnapped from his very arms.  
  
     Among this select secret group where Midge and her bi-species children are sequestered and protected, it’s laughed about how the Scarrans won’t even mention the humiliation they caused the regal leader by ripping a lover straight from his very arms of his bed.    The most forced acting she ever had to endure was laughing with them while cuddling her children closer.   Luckily one begins to cry and she finds an excuse to turn away to care for his needs.  She hides her tears among her son’s.     
       That night she hides in her shower and sobs her heart out racking her body to bits. She just can not bare the thought of someone else taking her place in his life.   She was his first mate, maybe not legally, but most assuredly in his heart.   From now on she knows it will be his duty to carry on his lineage and bind the houses together.   Now more than ever she will have to raise these children with the truth, but how among a lie?  
  
    As time passes, her love does not.   If anything, as her children grow, her love for Staleek does, too.   Once the children come to the age of reason, she begins her secret journal.   Her plans to get them to the Staleek may not happen, but she wants her children to know the truth:   they were not conceived in an act of evil science or betrayal, they were created in love and hope.  
     Time is coming close to begin their training as infiltrators and the lies.   It sickens her.  She just can’t allow this and tries to find a way to secretly stop it.  And then, he arrives...  
   
      A half breed named Scorpius.   Suddenly his genius ideas and easy to manipulate ideals sound like a better way to plant a mole within the Scarran Empire than to train two teenagers.     
      Keeping the twins a secret from Scorpius, the fifteen year plan is scrapped.  They come to execute and disposed of a discarded project.  Midge is outraged and lets it be known.   Grabbing her off-springs’ hands and the journal she races the corridors, killing her friends on the way.   She will not let the Peace Keepers kill her children that she loves as much if not more than her mate.   She will not let Staleek’s true heirs be murdered in the name of misguided sadistic science experiment.  
         Midge tugs and makes it clear to her children their lives are in danger.  “These are not your friends or allies!   They are your enemy.   If you can, please get to the Scarrans.   Please, please you must survive!   Go NOW!!”  
       Shoving them along, she turns back and fires.   Return fire hits her in the shoulder.   She maybe bleeding and in severe pain, but that will not stop the parental passion driving her.   Raging back, she roars and fires back.   The children jump into a shuttle keeping the door open for her while firing up the controls.   A second hit, spins her around knocking her to the ground.   The rushing soldiers overrun her and head for the lifting shuttle.   The siblings know their mother will not make it and make their escape as their dying mother covers them by shooting to the controls to release the hangar doors.  
          With a wobbly push, the shuttle pushes it’s way out and any loose personal, like a wounded mother, are pulled out into space.   
  
~~~  
     Scorpius feels his stomach churn reading the last line in a new pen and handwriting.   Due to his arrival, two children were supposed to be extinguished as if they were nothing more than a spoiled vegetable or a defective animal.  It was his fault that Alyssum had been cast away so easily.  
    Putting a hand to his chest, he remembers the black ring on the wall calendar… her brother.   Her brother died here some time ago.   
     His hands fall in his lap looking down at the tragic love story in his palms.  Alyssum is alone.   She never knew her father wanted her, her mother lied and died so that she might live, and the only other person that loved her, died in this seclusion.   If he hadn’t arrived, she could have been with her father and possibly this whole war would be at an end by now.  
     Scorpius’ cold blue eyes turn to the path where the silent woman who saved him and should hate him went off to get supplies.  Now more than ever he feels he owes it to her to live.           


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a/n: I would like to thank my silent viewers. No one has ’favorite’, that’s fine. No one has left a review/comment: no problem, understood (I do that too sometimes too), but seeing that the story has gotten more that one view a few chapters in lets me know I’m not the only one who is enjoying this. Thank you silent supporters. I do have my page of notes and have not used them all up yet, so there’s still more to come.

  
   Scorpius looks down on the journal once more.   He’s holding in his hands a love story.   For himself, he’s never really thought about romance or euphoric emotions having always seen them as a weakness and a liability.  
    He’s seen the passion John and Aeryn share and the lengths they will go for each other.   He knows the rage Kar’dargo had when he lost his mate.   He knows about species that die when their mates pass on, but for himself?   He never thought about ever finding someone who would ever accept him in such a fashion nor anyone he would want to give that kind of consideration to.  
    Sure many have looked at him as a curiosity (either for his genius or for his mixed race).   His aggressive nature is a turn-on  to those who think they can handle his rough-sexual side…but now?  
     He looks at the book once more.   Love.   The sweet tender taste of love that his mother had for her mate who died protecting her.   The warm comforting escape that Staleek found in Midge’s arms.   The respect and forever promise ‘Dargo had.   The conjoined need John and Aeryn share that created a new life.   Fate has a strange way of bringing lives together.   Love is a curious passion that can twist and turn a universe‘s course.  
  
     His hand soothes over the leather cover.   For so long he has tried to destroy in hurt and rage.   For all this time Alyssum has been living as the only reflection of her parents true love.   Both of them share the same mixture of races, but see their creation two vastly different ways.  One breed out of hate, one out of hope.   Ironic to maroon them together on the same planet or just plain crazy fate?  
    It’s just too much to take in right now as his stomach churns.   So carefully he rises and sets the book respectfully on a shelf.   No, he hasn’t finished reading it, but there’s too much to assimilate for this moment.    
  
     For now, he will do as his caretaker asked of him.   Provide for her living plants and to survive until she returns.   That he can handle for now.   The trips to the lake and back are just the beginnings of the exercise he needs.   Due to his Scarran healing properties and whatever attributes there are in the Paradise Plant and lake water, he finds himself feeling a lot better swiftly.  In matter of days, he is up to his old training regiment.     
      It doesn’t take him that long to prepare a simple meal anymore or to water a simple garden, therefore there are many hours left in the day to get himself into trouble; he smirks.   So a few sit-ups here, some push-ups there, that strong branch is good for pull-ups.   So maybe he can only get to ten at first, but he knows he is well on the way of recovering.   The real challenge is his soul finding direction.  
  
~~~~  
       By the time Alyssum returns, Scorpius can make a full lap around the lake and dive in for a cool down before carrying the full yoke back up to the cabin.  In fact that’s what he has just been doing when she comes into sight a few days after the full moon: Just like she promised.   He has just finished pouring the water into the barrels when he looks up and sees a slight dust cloud of an approaching traveler.  
       For a moment he is nervous as to who it could be but then he remembers the calendar.   So with even strides he heads to meet the property owner half way.   Too his surprise, her cart is being hauled by a pack animal much like alpaca.   A thick soft fleece much like that of the padding on the bed she gave him.   His strides quicken into a jog to join her sooner.  
      Her form stiffens and brings a long bladed machete to bear seeing someone swiftly come towards her.   Seeing the blade, he stops and raises his hands as not to scare her, “It’s just me Alyssum, Scorpius.”  
       Rope in one hand, blade in the other, the arms fall limp to her side.   It’s been so long since she’s heard her name.   “Say it again,” she whispers.  
       Blinking, he can’t believe he heard such a soft sound.   Yes it is voice of a Scarran but it has the softness of a Sebacean-female lit.   How can he deny such a simple request?   “Don’t fear, Alyssum, it’s just me… Scorpius.   I won’t hurt you.”  
       She can not speak and just nods.  It’s been so long since she has heard her father’s tongue.  Scorpius then realizes what he has done.   For a moment he feels the bile rise, but it quells just a swiftly when he sees the soft look on her face.  The bred-Scarran has no idea what caused him to slip back to that language, yet seeing that it comforts her holds his hand out for the rope to the animal, “Can you ride?”  
        She only shakes her head.   Is it because she does not want to add more weight to the cart or because the pack animal is not one for riders, he does not know.   Instead, he just nods and gives the animal a slight tug of the lead to get them moving again.  Silently, she walks beside him.   Scorpius notices she looks exhausted and now that he is better, decides he will take on more of the work so she can get some much needed rest.   After all, she did save his life….for whatever reason.  
  
     Yesterday, he finished reading her journal thus knows that the two inexperienced pilots managed to jump off the command carrier and make one Starburst.   Unfortunately, upon arrival, they smashed into an asteroid shower and crashed onto this planet.   Their mother had given them enough survival training  (probably in preparations to get back to Staleek) to find water and shelter.  The teens had found the most incredible sign of hope here:  
     A Bird of Paradise plant that has budded teal and lavender flowers into a fairly good size knot near another crashed shuttle.   Not far from it was a small water fall, obviously the plant‘s savior.   The kids found the water more that quenching their thirst, it seemed to revitalize them a bit.   From there, they followed a path up the side of the cliff.   At the top they found a lake filled with this ‘magic water‘.   Gathering what little supplies they could from the two shuttles, they set up a homestead near this lake and began their way of life.     
     Over the course of the years, they made this cabin.  The journal ran out of paper before the cabin is completed or the demise of her brother is revealed.   It’s a mystery to Scorpius how she ever survived this long.   Two sheltered fifteen year old kids …  
      Well he wasn’t in too much better shape when he escaped and stumbled his way into the Peace Keepers hands the first time.     
  
      Alyssum stumbles but quickly rights herself, hiding her face and holding a hand up to assure him that she is just fine.  After all this distance, her home is right there within her sights.  Just a little bit further and she will be safe.     
      Scorpius respectfully says and does nothing other than stay beside her as they make their way home.  
  
     Once they make it to the gate, he motions to the outside chair for her to rest.   She viciously shakes her head trying to take the rope from him.   Swiftly looping the rope over a tree branch out of her reach, he then turns on her.   Scooping her up into his now stronger arms, she goes absolutely rigid, but he won’t let that stop him from setting her into a chair and leaning over her in protective ordering tone of voice, “Sit.   Rest.”  
      Weather it be fear or his Scarran soothing tone, she complies.   With a pat to her head, he beams her a smile, “Good girl.”   For that, even though he can only see her eyes, he does see the universal sign for disgust.   He only chuckles and pats again.  
      He returns with a plate of her bread, some of the fruit he picked, and of course, the tea.  In this case though, he brings out the whole pitcher.  With a  smart look, orders her to eat.   Once more she pouts to him but does the reasonable thing by complying.  
       Its been awhile since his prideful-smile has been lit up, but here it is now nearly making him laugh out loud. It feels so damn good to be light hearted again.   Scorpius may not know much about care taking of animals, but he does have some of the basics in mind.   Carefully he detaches the harness and leads the animal to the shade of the tree where Alyssum can see him as well.   She reaches a hand out and strokes the beast’s long snout and gives him a piece of her fruit.  
         When Scorpius returns with a pail of waterfall-water for the animal, he makes it softly clear to Alyssum, “We need to talk and I don’t mean I talk and you stay silent.”   She tries to look away, but he takes her uncovered chin between two of his fingers holding it still.  “Alyssum, you have seen me.   No one has EVER seen me outside of my cooling suit since I escaped the Scarrans.  You have no idea how exposed and vulnerable I am without it, but some how, here I am alive outside of it.   You have some explaining to do.   I read your journal, as you asked, but it’s not the whole story, now is it?”  
         Alyssum pushes his hand away and then turns her face even more.   “You wouldn’t understand.”  
        “No kidding.   Why do you think I’m asking?”  He comes back around to take the other seat, the one that obviously used to be her brother’s.   “Fine, answer me this:   Do you hate me for being the cause of your banishment and your mother’s death?”  
       “Have you met my father?”   She doesn’t answer his question, instead choosing to ask her own and eats.  
        To that he has to hiss in a deep breath.  Her father seemed to be the ONLY Scarran who honestly wanted wormhole technology for the furthering of his race’s advancement.   To be able to keep up with their most formidable foe and not looked down on as barbarians, Scorpius did find some respect in that.   Did Staleek agree to the forced breeding programs, hard to say, but it also doesn’t matter now.  “Yes, I’ve met him,” he finally mutters tensely.  
       She lifts her head to look into his ice blue eyes and read his honest reaction.   “And what did you think?”  
       Scorpius is not prepared for that question.   How does he see a man that led an empire and yet was betrayed by the same people as he?   Part of the half-breed wants to boil in rage, but he knows that it can’t honestly be directed at just one man for there were lots of people involved in the trickery and backstabbing he has suffered all along the way.   He looks into the soft red eyes shared by Scarran leader in a whole new light.   An act of love made the eyes before him, how can he hate the man?  
      “Look Alyssum,” he tries to pick his words very carefully with a comforting voice.   “The man your mother knew and tried to send you to, is not the man I dealt with, so that would not be a fair question for me to answer.”  
        She looks away from the soft eyes trying to save her grief from his own personal thoughts on someone she desperately would like to meet but then again is terrified to.  “Oh, right.”  
        They sit in silence for a little while eating their simple meal.  When the meal is gone, Scorpius takes the plates and heads inside.   Alyssum goes to the cart and pulls an armful of goods out.  Hearing her approach, he opens the door and quickly takes the bundles from her as soon as she steps in.   Her shoulders slump seeing he has drawn a bath for her.  
      “You didn’t….,”  words fail her.  
      Scorpius sets the bundles down on the pushed aside table and chuckles, “No, but it felt like the least I could do for you.  Come, come, now relax.   Is there anything I should do for the beast?”  
      She shakes her head, “He’ll be fine until morning.  The wild beasts will not attack him once inside on the west side of the cabin.   They don’t like the smell of this plot of land and avoid it.”  
     “Very well,” he turns to head out and give her privacy, but she touches his arm.  
      “Scorpius, wait.”   He turns back.   With a deep breath, she lowers her hood, and his jaw drops.     
      Alyssum bears light grey skin much like the Scarran-Sebacean mix with deep socket eyes like himself with soft wrinkle ridges that are turning a lovely blushing rose in her shyness.   Her lips he already knew were soft pink like a child’s sweet treat, but she has ears like a Sebacean with little dangling shells hanging off from the pierced holes.   The most striking thing though is the single thick auburn braid that starts about a hand’s length up from her forehead and goes all the way down the back of her skull like an elegant Mohawk.   At the nape, she has tied off the braid and let it flare out to a soft mane ending half way down her back.  This must be a genetic gift from her mother.  Biting her lip, she waits for his reaction.  
        He knows that his touch chills her, so instead he touches her with his smile and soft words, “Thank you, Alyssum.”   Now her cheeks begin to tinge darker and a smile pulls out even though she is still biting her lip.  He can see her sharp teeth with pink gums.   He gives her a light chuckle and another compliment, “No need to hide your smile from me.”   Now she has to turn her burning face aside and he leaves the building to her private use.  
  
         Stepping out into the afternoon light, he feels his own cheeks burning.   It’s been so long since he’s seen an honest female smile.  It’s been even longer since anyone has bared anything so intimate and personal to him without threat or torture.   His heart feels like it’s blushing too.   Rubbing his chest, he heads out to see to the cart and beast.  
         It’s not hard for him to figure out what are food stores by their scent and the turn of the animal’s snout as well.   Those he puts on the bench under the window far out of the animal’s reach!   From there, he brings the cart to the sheltered shed behind the cabin and tucks it in.   Tomorrow he will help stow the rest of the supplies when she is ready.   For now, he will check on her.  
     Knocking on the doorframe he makes his presence known, “Alyssum?   Are you decent?”   No answer, no rustling.   Just the sound of fabric curtains from the kitchen window.   “Alyssum?”   Still no answer.  “I’m coming in, better object now.”     
      Entering the room, he can see why she can’t object.   Wrapped up in a towel, she’s collapsed herself on the bed in a huddled ball, half under a blanket and fallen sound asleep.   Poor thing.   Quiet as possible, although pretty sure she is dead to the world, Scorpius makes his way to her side and brings the blanket over her.  He stalls for a moment, when he sees a deep and hideous scar on a piece of her shoulder.   Pushing her loose hair back, he sees the exposed scar disappears under the towel on her chest.    Tucking the blanket around her, she doesn’t even move.   How many times a year does she drag herself to exhaustion only to survive?  He feels his chest cringe.  She doesn’t deserve this struggle to remain alive.   He has to get her out of here and to a better way of life.    
      With a soft huff he brings the food stores inside and puts away what he can all the while trying to decide how to get her out of this life and into a better one.     
        
        It’s dusk by the time he gets the beast tucked away, bath tub drained and his own dinner made.   He checks on Alyssum once more but she hasn’t moved at all, unsurprisingly.   That leaves Scorpius to his own thoughts outside under the stars on the hammock.  
  
      A better way of life…  And easier way of life…  way-of-life?   What does that mean anyways?  Right now he nearly has the choice to do whatever he wants to in life, but he doesn’t know himself what he wants.  
       His life started as a struggle to live.   Then to escape a lie and find the truth.   After that, his goal had been revenge with the added hope of bending the universe to his will.   Finding that goal unobtainable, he was back to surviving only to be betrayed again.   There has always been one thing lacking through all of this:  
       Future.  
       For the first time in weeks, his head begins to hurt.   Since he has woken up on this strange planet with this silent woman, his head hasn’t swirled like this.  (Post coma issues aside.)   Now, he can feel it coming on.   Slowing his breathing down, he tries to put all this deep thinking aside and focus only on the care of Alyssum.  
        That seems to do the trick and he feels the blanket of night pulling him under.   In-spite of a head aches, his dreams tonight are very peaceful and full of hope and promise that do not include the death and destruction of another.   A brand new sensation.  
  
~~~~  
      Scorpius slowly awakens to the soft sound of an animal’s cooing comforting noises.   Rolling his head, he’s eye to eye with the alpaca.   Apparently it found it’s rope lead quite tasty and chewed it’s way loose.   Pursing his dark lips at the creature, he gives back a Scarran snarl.  The animal flicks his long ears at his new caretaker and continues to chew his cud.  That makes the lips pull even tighter and try again with his curling snarl.   For that, the ex-commander is licked.  
       “You are stupid,” Scorpius shakes his head and pushes his blanket aside to see to today’s needs.  
  
       Dipping the two marked pails into each of the buckets, he taps on the door letting his presence be known.   A groggy moan lets him know she is still buried under the blanketed cocoon.  Taking the groan not as a refusal, he enters and stokes the fire to heat up today’s water and get a meal together.  
       The half breed Scarran-male brings a mug and meal to the bedside table and checks on his caretaker.   She does try to open an eye to him, but she’s just so tired.  He gives her a warm smile back extending his hand.   Just before he reaches her cheek, he stops.   That scar.   That scar bears a story and could explain why she is wary of touch.   She must have felt his nearness too, for her eye opens again and a tiny weak smile gifts him back to the touch’s meaning, even if it isn’t completed.  He smiles back, and then turns aside so she can  return to her much needed sleep.  
  
~~~~  
         Alyssum arises later in the day and dresses in her light weight clothes, wrapping a cloak around herself.   Her small bare feet make their way across the soft tilled dirt and to her much used outside table.   Settling down, she lets the sun’s rays bath over her uncovered head and loose hair to welcome the day.  She curls into the chair sideways and lays her head to the high back so she can watch what is going on at the lake.   Scorpius sets the yoke down and sets of on his daily routine of jogging around the lake.  It warms her to see him getting so healthy again.  
  
       When he had crashed, she knew right away who he was.   It wasn’t hard to guess at all.   For in the couple weeks before her own escape, she had seen images of him before they were quickly hidden.  An average height for a Sebacean male, with pale complexion to his face, ice blue eyes, while all the rest of him is covered in layers of black leather ‘scales‘.   She even thought the  ‘coat tails’ were a bit charming even if he was to be feared.  
        Looking at him bloodied and battered in the downed ship, she knew she should hate him, but just couldn’t for some unknown reason.  There was so much she wanted to know and knew he was the only one who could probably answer them for her.   So with help from her cart, she dragged him home and began nursing him back to health.  The lack of movement over the weeks had taken it’s toll on his muscle tone.   It was a fight just for his body to get over the heat-sickness and accept the tea’s nutrients.   It was an accident that she and her brother found the thicker plant pulp-lake water mixture to have healing properties year before, but now more than ever so grateful for it.   She knew she had to save him if she wanted the answers to her questions, yet once he awoke, she couldn’t face or talk to him.  
      The things he cursed and hissed in his delirium scared her.  Apparently he’s been abused, tortured, abandoned and wounded far more that herself who was merely be deemed ’expendable’.   Alyssum just couldn’t let him see her true face of his mixed tortures.   Nor could she figure out what to say, until now.  
  
      Seeing the man push not only his body back to health but also striving to communicate and reach out to her, eases so many of her previous fears.   The break away from him gave her the final clarity of thought and strength she needed to ask him her most potent question.  The answer she received was not what she was expecting at all.  Hurt for him, but respect for her.  
       Alyssum snuggles into her cape a little tighter and watches him come round the back side of the lake and back towards the cabin.   To her surprise, he doesn’t.   She watches as he makes light fast steps up to a pile of rocks and then, tugs his shirt off and dives in.   That lifts her head to watch the splash move across the surface of the lake and back.   That was something she just wasn’t expecting and she just can‘t stop watching.   The swimmer comes to the edged of the lake and rises out of the water.  From this distance she can’t see him all that well but she can see he’s content and slightly winded to his posture.   With a swipe, he grabs a bucket and fills it.  He takes the second bucket up to the pile of rocks that hold a pool of water fall water and retrieves his shirt resting beside it.   
       Instead of putting the shirt back on the traditional way, he lays it across the back of his neck and lifts the weighted yoke to his shoulders on top of the draped shirt.  Then with a very graceful glide returns to the cabin.  
  
       Each step brings him closer and closer.   Communication and living together begins now.   A man, not her brother, is coming closer to her.   A experienced man of a former life she barely understood is becoming a part of her world.  She should fear him because he easily could do as he pleased and abandon her.  Steps by step Alyssum sees the better toned man she healed bringing household necessities to her home.   Her fight-or-flight nerves are trying to make a decision while some sense of sanity is trying to get her to calm down and trust him.  
       Her breath becomes shorter and shorter as his steps come closer and closer.   Huddling into a ball, she can’t even move.  
  
        For Scorpius, as he comes closer and closer, the sun’s glare moves and he can see a body in ‘her’ chair.   Or maybe it’s just a bundle of fabric?   Curious.   Closer and closer he comes and then he sees a stream of loose auburn hair moving in the breeze.  A few more steps closer and notices, the fabric isn’t rustling in the breeze, it’s the body underneath shivering.   Shivering?  
     Swiftly he sets the yoke aside and kneels at her side, “Alyssum!”   He tries to find her hand, but the bundle of cloak-fabric has her so concealed, he can’t get a semblance of where it could be.   “Are you sick?   What should I do for you?”  Concern radiates out of his tone.  
      The bundle shifts and muffled asks the question back, “Do for me?”  
      Scorpius gives his infamous huff and grunts, “Yes, help you.   Why would I not help you?”  
      She lifts her head and looks down into his knelt form, “Because…”  
      He actually looks hurt and angry.   “Because I’m a beast?   Because I’m a ruthless barbarian?  Because I’m too smart to have a heart?”   Slamming a fist to his uncovered chest he snaps, “I do have compassion.”  
     He yanks his face aside and goes to shove himself up when he feels touch.   Alyssum has not just touched him, her near claw tipped fingers grab his naked bicep holding him in place.  
    The hard ice eyes latch onto the soft warm glowing red ones.   “I think we need to talk,” she returns in her father’s tongue.


	8. Chapter 8

“Talking sounds good, Alyssum,” he makes sure to use his softest voice and slips out of her loosening grip.   Tugging on his shirt, he takes her brother’s chair.  
    Alyssum adjusts her posture to face him as well and drops the fabric from her head allowing the sun’s rays to warm her face.  
    Scorpius takes in the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.   Scarran female are Scarran females, likewise are Sebacean women, but before him is a woman who has the strong cheeks of a Scarran, the warm red eyes of them as well.  Yet she has the soft body frame and topping of free flowing hair of a Sebacean.   One thing he always enjoyed is letting hair slip through his fingers and here it is flowing in the breeze.   This woman could easily be his perfect--  
  
   “Dandy was always good at science,” Alyssum’s statement cuts off Scorpius’ thoughts making his brain blink into switching gears of focus.   Her hands play with the edge of her cloak and shrugs, “Maybe because I am female I was more into the arts.”    
   Scorpius frowns.  “You have a talented eye for the arts.   I have seen your stained glass and your beautiful pottery work is does not make you a lesser person by any means.”  It’s not only a compliment but a nudge to keep going with her story.  
   Her mouth turns up a little, “Maybe, but it didn’t do us much good when it came to survival.   If it wasn’t for him… we would have died.   I didn’t freak out like some wimp, but I was very scared and had no idea what to do.”  
   Scorpius leans over the table, “Males get scared too.  Even Scarran males.”    
   She lightly laughs, “Maybe, but you don’t panic.”  
   Scorpius has to laugh hard at that, “Oh trust me, they can and have no matter the species.”  Her eyes flare to his own past and then Scorpius presses his tongue into his cheek in regret to revealing some of the things he’s done in his own past in order to get the information he really needed.  Twirling a finger, he encourages her to go on with her story and forget his own statement.  
   So she takes a deep breath and presses on.   “Anyway, my brother figured out that there is something in the lake water that is a healing property to us.   We were feeling pretty sick and overheated the first few days here, weakening while trying to survive on emergency rations.  He took the risk and took a drink from the water feeding Father‘s Plant.”  
   “Father’s Plant?”  Scorpius furrows.  
   Once more she shrugs and points to the image of the flower on her mug.   “Mama called it Father’s Plant from the tapestry she stole in her…capture.   The odd thing was that this particular plant was surrounded by some that weren’t orange and red like his.   The center plant was but all the others are blue and lavender.   Dandy believes it has something to do with the minerals in the water.”  
    Scorpius looks over to the two buckets, “I think I should look into this.   After all, I do have a scientific frame of mind.   Can you show me the original plant?”  
    Alyssum nods and points towards the path she had gone down, “Yes, it’s that direction on the way towards town.”  
     “Town?   Why didn’t you head there instead of setting up here?”  
   Alyssum tightens up her ball, “We didn’t know about it when we began our homestead.”     
     Scorpius is no fool when it comes to body language having pushed enough people past their breaking point, he knows there is a teetering wall here she is trying to hold.   The question he has for himself is weather to push it over, climb over it, or leave it alone.  
    “What happened to your brother?”   He presses to test the wall’s stability.  
    “He died,” and slams the gate shut with that simple statement.  
  
    Scorpius settles back and knows that he will have to wait quite a while before getting anymore information out about the incident.  Instead he turns to the cabin, “This place looks strong and sturdy.   Must have been quite a bit of work to get it built.”  
    Alyssum nods, “We almost froze the first winter here.   Some how, we managed to survive and… learned a whole lot.”  
    Scorpius stands and takes a better look at the landscape.   He is well aware of the forest over there but still it had to be in heck of a haul for the logs.  “How did you do this?”  
   She points to the alpaca, “We befriended one of those.   Took us a couple seasons to get enough logs of similar size, and then the caulking.”  
   Scorpius takes a long hard look at the cabin made from shuttle windows, natural materials and something that had to be purchased elsewhere.  “How did you find out about the town?”   
    “Some… people came through.   Worried, we hid and just listened.   They were going into the forest to hunt.   When they came back out, we followed them a day behind.   We made it to the town but didn’t go in when we noticed… we didn’t fit in.”   She touches her Scarran facial features.   She shrugs and then continues.   “I noticed there were a set of females that wore a particular attire and had their face hooded.  Some religious order I guess.   So with some improvising and a bit of light-handedness I went in.   I was able to get a few supplies and come back to him.   That’s how I make my way by making myself look like one of another order.”  
  
     Scorpius takes a closer look at the beautiful woman before him who is playing with her cloak.  “They’ve never seen your face?”  
     “A… couple have.   It was not a good experience,” she mutters.  
     “I think you are beautiful.”  
     Alyssum shots her head up to see if he is telling the truth or just teasing her.   What she sees is a look she has NEVER seen before directed at her.  Sure she’s seen it on some of the younger males in the town towards other females but here… Scorpius… Scorpius of all men is looking at her with sweetness and soft praise.  This is an honest expression.   Her cheeks begin to warm and she drops her forehead to her folded knees.   If only he knew, she knows he would not look at her this way anymore.  
     He chuckles lightly.   It’s been a long time since he has made a female shy away to his soft expression.  Been a long time since he’s felt this fluttering in his heart as well and he rubs the back of his neck.   Taking a deep breath, he clears his throat bringing the subject back around.  
  
      “So your brother Dandy figured out this water has a special attribute that halts the heat delirium I go through.   Did you experience it?   Mind crushing migraines, fever to the point you think your body will self-combust and so forth?”  
      She lifts her face so her chin rest on her knees and looks up to him resuming his seat.   “The head aches yes but I don’t think my body was as bad as yours.   Yes we thought we were dying of dehydration and some fever.   That’s why when I knew who you were I knew I had nothing to lose by giving you the water.   Something about that root-pulp seems to help your body maintain the nutrients and some other healing properties.   When I saw you stop sweating so much, I removed your suit and…”  She shrugs, “bathed you.”  
     He cocks a curious brow at her shyness to such a normal convulsing thing.   But then again, that would mean she saw him completely… naked.  
     She gives him a crooked smirk wrinkling her nose. “You stunk.”  
     Throwing his head back he laughs hard and long.   Oh gosh he has to hold his stomach because he’s never laughed this hard before.   Then he hears the sweetest music, her laughing WITH him.   Looking over between his tears of laugher, he sees her face beet red in mirth.  
     “I’m sorry but you did.   Worse than one of them after a storm,” she thumbs to the baying alpaca.  
     Scorpius plunks an elbow down and props up his chin into the palm, “Oh my word Alyssum, you are amazing, do you realize that?”  If she could, she flushes hotter and beams brighter.  
      Their laughter soon drops back down to warm smiles.   Taking a moment, he gathers refreshment for them both.  Her shy ’thank you’ is endearing to him.  “I need to be saying that to you.   You could have left me to die, but instead you gave your precious meager supplies and energy to one who actually caused you to be placed here.   Why?”  
      Taking a bit of cheese and cracker she shrugs, “I can’t really say.  Just… a feeling?   A calling?   A pull?   I don’t know.   I know it sounds stupid.”  She hides her face again.  
      “Alyssum, please.   There’s no need to hide yourself from me.  I enjoy looking at your face.  You are a very beautiful person.  Not just your face but your heart.   It’s been such a long time since I have ever met an honorable and truthful person.  Please, you do not need to hide from me.  Unless I scare you?”   His head cants ever so to look up into her down turned face.  
     “I’m not afraid of you even though I know I should be.   I heard you mumble in your illness.  I know what I read about you.   I have heard the rumors in town about you.   I know what you can do to me if you wish.”   That makes him blanch but she lifts her head and pins him with her hard red eyes, “I can not explain why I am not afraid of YOU, Commander Scorpius, but I am afraid of ME around you.”     
      With that, she jets out of the chair and goes into the cabin.   In moments, she has her moccasins and soft hat.  She flicks the alpaca’s lead loose and takes him to the waterfall.   Respectfully, Scorpius lets her have her space and peace.  
  
~~~~  
      Soon they fall into a routine.  Scorpius decides not to leave until he can solve the mystery of this water.  For he would have no point in leaving a homestead where he is free of the coolant suit only to find a way off the planet and fall ill and be too far from the healing waters.   If anything, maybe he can find out what makes him survive and take it with him.  
     Alyssum knows this even if he doesn’t say it out loud.   It just confuses her even more.   At times she wishes he would just leave and never come back.  Strange feelings flutter and confuse her.   Her eyes rake across him remembering that scar on his side.  His icy eyes have a softness directed to her that melts her but also have a haunting side as well.   Very confusing for her.    
    At other times, she hopes he will never leave.  It’s kind of nice being able to have a conversation with someone with new experiences.  Even something as simple as a card game brings forth merriment.  He teaches her some of the bits of his experiments encouraging her intelligence.  
     Then there are the times she ponders what it would be like to leave this place with him.  She looks up to the dark night sky pondering what it would be like to travel through there safely.  
      Handing her a mug of hot tea, he settles beside her on the stoop.  “I want to see that plant tomorrow.”  
      She nods, “Do you want me to go with you?”  
      “I should be fine.   I’ll take a couple canteens of water, like you do, and should be back by nightfall if you are correct about how far way it is.  If you want to join me I wouldn‘t mind.”  
       “It’s not far.   Just at the base of the cliff.   You can’t miss it on the west side of the crashed shuttle.”  She leaves it un answered if she will join him or not.  
       “Alyssum, what happened to your brother?”  He softly tries once more to get an answer.  
       “He died.”  
       “I get that.  Care to expand on that fact?”  
       She keeps her eyes on the stars above taking a deep breath, “If I did, I would have already.”  
      Scorpius takes his own deep sigh and tries again.   “Alyssum, I’m trying to gather weather it is something either you and I should be worried about.  And illness, a poison, a wild animal--”  
      “He died because of me.”   With that, she turns from him and enters the cabin swiftly blowing out the lamp thus ending the subject.   Sighing heavily, Scorpius makes his way to the hammock and settles down for the night.  It wasn’t easy though hearing the muffled sobs of the bi-species woman inside the cabin.   For the first time in a long time, he feels the need to wrap his arms around someone and console them, but he knows it would just bring more grief than comfort.  So he just lays here hearing her heart bleed and frustrating him to these emotions he unused to beginning to fester.  
  
~~~  
    In the morning, he gathers a pack and stuffs some food, a bunch of water and some sample jars.   Alyssum stands on the stoop with her arms tightly wrapped around herself watching him prepare.   Pulling on the pack, he then plunks a wide brim soft hat on his downy head and takes two steps towards her.  She turns and enters the cabin shutting off anything he would have said.   So with a deep sigh, he turns and gives his parting words of comfort to the braying beast with a scratch behind the ears.   He takes one last look to the closed cabin, but there is no response so he heads off.  
  
    The path leading away from the cabin is not weathered heavily even if it is a clear cut path.   The ground is harder and devoid of larger pieces of botanical life.   Those are growing in the soft dirt on either side of the path.   Only a few sparse weeds find root in the path.   He can see where Alyssum’s cart had been but even those marks are barely marked unlike the foot path he is on.   The recent rain has washed away all hoof marks of the beast so it looks like no one has been here in months.     
        Cutting around the large rock, he sees the sharp switch back path heading down and east.   His jaw drops.   There is no way a cart could come up this narrow path.   It’s barely passable for the alpaca.   Looking at the grooves in the massive boulder, he see it.   She lowered the cart on her way down and raised it on her way back up.   Oh….his heart pumps harder for the pioneer he shares habitation with.  Four times a year she comes over here, and goes through this routine.  No wonder the poor thing was exhausted by the time he reached her.     
       Yes she may be using gravity to lower the cart and the alpaca to raise it back up, but still.   How many times did she have to go up and down this path just to finish the task of securing and releasing ropes alone?   He swallows down the need to press her harder for information for clearly this woman is far stronger in her fortitude than she gives herself credit for.  
      Carefully making his way down the steep path, he puts his hands and feet into the dug out holds she has used for lonely years. By the time he makes it to the bottom, he is a bit winded himself.   He looks up the sharp cliff and just awes.   How in the world did two sick teenagers make their way up there in the first place?  
       He sinks down into the shade of a boulder and looks over the barren and desert like landscape.   He can see two rough paths.   One heads east probably towards town, the other heads south.   There he sees in the off distance another large boulder.  Wait, no.   With the sun moving, it glints off something shiny.  That must be the downed shuttle!  
      Rising quickly, he tugs on his pack and heads towards it and the sound of falling water.   Faster and faster his feet pick up their pace until he sees it!  A Peace Keeper Evacuation shuttle.   He rounds the south side of it and gulps.  Warp damage.   Running his hand along the dirty and half covered body, he knows what brought this shuttle down.   Something went wrong during a Starburst.   The twisted hunk of metal buckled and in places even twisted.   Sure the front of it shows where it impacted with the cliff side halted its slide along the ground, but he knows from his own failed experiments in worm hole technology what brought for its demise.   This is the effects of a bad jump.  
       He comes round the back end of the shuttle and sees where pieces have been sheered off, ripped off and also cut off.  All of it during the ill-fated escape, the crash and salvagers like Alyssum.   Looking off to the south west, around the bend of this cliff he can see the smaller shuttle that Alyssum and Dandy were most likely on.     He doesn’t move to that one because this one still holds his curiosity.    Coming round the western side of this shuttle (where it is nearest the small waterfall) he sees the plant.  
       Just like Alyssum said:   a larger red-orange plant in the middle surrounded by blue and lavender offspring.   He crouches down and brushes some of the dirt away to get a look at it’s root system.    Uncovering the roots, he finds not a bulb but a bone.  Bone?   With deft light touches, he keeps going around the plant.  He can see where a body has curled itself around the mother plant and the ‘children’ have grown through the decaying body.   He has to give a slight smile to that thought of someone’s life not being in vane even if it was just for a plant‘s survival.     
     Continuing his brushing, he uncovers something else.   A small metal plate no bigger than three finger’s width.   It’s attached to the wrist of this body.   Reverently, Scorpius turns the wrist to get a better look at it.  Still he can’t read what it says.   So he scoops some of the water from the fall and bathes the plate and scrubs with the edge of his shirt.  
      The letters slowly become clear and his heart sinks.   His eyes pull from the plate, to the mother plant and then to the twisted remains of the shuttle.     
      Tayln.  Iris.  Alyssum.  
      His dirty hand comes up to cover his mouth as a choked gasp comes out.   When Tayln Starburst inside the command carrier, it sent out a shockwave.  The shuttle Scorpius’ servant Iris was on must have gotten caught in the unstable wave.   It not only sent the shuttle into the past, but buckled the metal and made it weak.   It crashed here with his very own flower.  The one from his mother‘s planet.   Scorpius swallows down another choke.  
      He sent Iris into safety only for her to die here.   Alyssum was supposed to be exterminated because of him only to land here and find his plant that saved her.   Fate has a terrible sense of irony.  
       Leaning forward, he finds Iris’s forehead and places a soft kiss on her.   “You did well my dear.   I’m so sorry you could not see what you have done.  Thank you.”  He pries the mark of servitude off the freed woman and covers her up to rest in peace forever.    He will take it with him and cherish it.  He can not just run off to end his life now that one has died in his place and another who was supposed to has given so much for him to live.    
       Seeing this complex spot, though, still doesn’t answer his question as to weather he should leave Alyssum in her solitude of peace or if he should stay with her and try to make a new life.   None of those answers are here at this sight of death and life like he was hoping to find.    
         He lets the sun move to it’s dissention side of the day before moving towards the town.   No point taxing his body any further in the dry heat of the day.     
        It’s late in the afternoon the next day before he makes it onto the town Alyssum told him of.   Not a big town, but most certainly a center of trade for outlying outposts and farms.   That’s what this looks like too, and agricultural center.  
        Sure there is a port that has land transportation off to a large city which will have a space port.   Pulling his hood up like she suggested, Scorpius makes his way through town carefully.  
        He can hear about their thoughts of species other than their selves.   He can hear their thoughts on Scarrans.   He can hear others who do not agree.   Then he hears chilling words:  
       “I saw it myself.   Months ago.  There was another that crashed out there with the other haunted wrecks.   I’m telling you, the freak is not dead.  He has returned.  He and his mate.  Bet you anything they are up there breeding more freaks!”  
      The Sheriff plants a firm hand on the bigot’s shoulder, “And I have told you to stop chasing fantasies and ghost stories.   It was nothing more than a meteor.   Leave the hermit’s a lone.   They do us no harm.   You don’t want people invading your homestead, leave them in peace.”  
      “They are freaks!”  
      Someone else comes over and chuckles, “Than you should fit in quite well.”  
      But the bigot doesn’t leave it alone.  “You will see!   All of you will see.   One of these days, something bad is going to happen and I will be right and you will all be scared.  We will see who is laughing then!!”  
       This time the Sheriff’s hand clamps down harder, “Look, it’s been ages.  Leave it alone.   You beat up two helpless people and got your jollies and think you are all big an bad.   All you have actually done is made a fool of yourself.   Leave alone.  That is not a request.”  
       The bigot jerks out of his grip and thrusts a finger into the officer’s face.   “We shall see.   My brother and the boys have gone hunting.   Who knows what they will find on their trip?   I would have gone if it wasn’t for this bum leg.”  
        The Sheriff purses his lips, “Your brother better not do anything to endanger those children or that peaceful family or you will be dealing with me.”  
       The bigot cackles,  “We shall see.”   Then with a roar to everyone in town-central, “You shall all SEE when my brother brings back those freaks on a pike.”   Scorpius stands perfectly still and the bigot turns to him and sneers, “What are you looking at, stranger?   You a freak-worshiper too?”  
       Scorpius can feel his pulse quickening.  No….no…no… it’s coming clear quickly.  With a turn, he blots back towards the cliff praying that he can be in time or at least that Alyssum can find safety like she did before.  
       For once he wished he had worked on telepathy instead of wormholes.


	9. Chapter 9

  
  
 Scorpius ran like never before.   He has no care for his own life.  Alyssum, as sweet and kind as Iris, deserves her peaceful freedom.   She has done NOTHING but be the epitome of strength and survival.  Just as her father had hoped for his people.  This Scarran male pumps harder into his run.  
  
   Yes it took him a day and a half of walking to get to the town from the homestead, but now he runs for all he is worth to get back to her.   As strong as he has his healthy has returned, still he is nothing but a mortal.   As arrogant as he can be, fact is still superior.   After his third stumble, he is forced to sit a spell to rehydrate and rest.   While the body sits, the brain continues to rush.   Worry.   Fret.  Angst.   All new emotions for him to feel… for another.  
     Emotions that Staleek had for Midge.   Emotions John shares with Ayreon.  NO!  He shakes his head, no not those feelings.  Any thing but THOSE.  He slams a fist down.  Not again.  
       But his brain won’t stop talking to his heart.   He closes his eyes trying to think of anything but Alyssum and worry.  What he sees is serine Staleek.   The Emperor sitting peacefully in a Scarran holding cell negotiating a peaceful end for the war.   Has much as his head had hurt from the previous attack the red-garbed leader had inflicted on him, he was quite surprised to see the leader willing to accept the bigger picture.   Peace would come with a cost.   Scorpius was all too aware that success and progress have painful side effects, but the fact that the Scarran leader who wanted his people to hold dignity in the galaxy was willing to give up a little face in order to move forward…  It awed him.    
       That was until that witch of a Military Minister walked in and blew it all up by making Staleek walk away from it more hell bent than ever to destroy at all costs.  The leader felt betrayed and manipulated, something Scorpius understands all too well. At that moment though Scorpius wanted to jump and tell the leader not to give up when he was so close, but it was too late.  The door slammed shut on the cell and the Staleek’s heart.  
  
       Coming back to a calmer present tone, Scorpius looks up to the cliff wall:    What if Staleek had known about his daughter?   Would he have tried for peace sooner or would he have annihilated them all sooner?  
         His throat swallows, would Sikozu have been true to him if the war was over sooner?   Would she still have betrayed him when the next chance of power came about or would she have been content by his side?  Was she ever truly content by his side?  
          Contentment.   What does it even mean any more to be content?   Is that what he is really searching for in life?  
  
        Images flash through his mind from his past life:  
His mother; Rylani Jeema Dellos and her mate Wolesh :  in love and content.    
Tauza; who ‘raised’ and abused him.  
Natira; who brought him pleasure and fun.  He was slightly content for a while.  
Grazer; who tortured and manipulated him as much as he did to her.  
Moya’s crew; that reluctantly took him in and save his life as much as he saved theirs.  
Sikozu; to whom he finally thought he might have a chance of stability with and possibly even love.  
  
All temporary.   All used and wanted something from him.  Except….  
  
Iris; sweet innocence who only gave and seemed content in her life serving him.  
Alyssum; who should hate him the most and yet has cared for him even more than all the others combined.  
  
        Scorpius rubs his hands over his head once again trying to figure out why he is racing so hard to get back to her.   He really shouldn’t care one way or another.  After all, for so long he has been on his own.   For so long he has been the number one priority.   Even Natira didn’t matter that much to him. After the way Sikozu wormed her way into his heart and twisted it  (and he did care about her safety) he should not care one iota for anyone ever again.   No one.  Not one stinking person.   Even just a mater of weeks ago he didn’t even care for himself!  
        Once again he rubs his head in frustration.  His emotions are all jumbled and arguing with his logic as something keeps digging into his side.  Literally something is digging onto his side like a thorn.   He shoves his hand into his pocket and pulls it out ready to toss it away.   As soon as his hand surrounds the metal tag, his heart stalls.  
       He doesn’t have to look at it to know what it is.   He rubs a thumb over it feeling his name and her ID number.   Iris.  One person he truly wanted to live a peaceful and quiet life due to her sweet and honest heart.   She was never angry with him, he was never angry with her.   She respected him and likewise he respected her.   She cared for him and in return he protected her as best he could.     
       
         A gun shot!   Scorpius leaps to his feet and listens.  Another.   Up, north and in the distance.   Oh no Alyssum!   It’s begun.   He runs.   Nothing will stop him this time even if he can not for the life of himself figure out why.  Protecting her is his only motivation right now.  He will not fail Alyssum like he did Iris.  
         Pumping his arms and legs as fast as he can, he races up the switch back path.   The sharp pains start in his lungs, but he can’t stop now.   No, not now.  He hears the first scream as he breaks the top of the ridge.     
        Continuing his run, he squints trying to see what is going on, but he can see nothing from this distance.   He can hear her scream again.   Not just any scream.  This is the blood chilling one of a Scarran female in agony.  Mixed with the screaming is the gruff taunts of human males as well a young male’s cries to stop.  Scorpius can also hear the frantic brays of the alpaca pleading for help.    
        Scorpius wishes there was a god for him to pray to but there is none for him so he will just have to press on and allow the adrenaline of his rage give him the stamina to succeed.   Alyssum lets off another scream and he pulls up the last of his reserves.  
         Within moments the scene before him unfolds and he lets out a loud challenging snarl.   The two men stop their attack and look up to the source of the strange sound.   The adolescent boy cries out in horror seeing the charging intruder.  
         One man is holding Alyssum down by the throat and halts his hand in mid-repeated-backhand.   The other man is sitting on Alyssum’s legs with a knife still in his hand where he has cut her tunic and apparently her skin by the blood on the blade.  
      Scorpius leaps over the fence, snatching the shovel from against it and swings with a vicious snarl.   The knife holder doesn’t have a chance to move before the spade head hits him the shoulder knocking him aside.     
      The boy yanks at the other adult’s arm,  “Dad, please, let’s go!”  
      The father slaps Alyssum once more and snaps to his son, “You coward!   This is how we take care of degenerate mis-breeds.   Now watch!”  
      Scorpius narrows his gaze and stares at this rising man challenging him, “I suggest you run and save yourself.”  
      The father laughs, “You have no idea who you are dealing with, FREAK.”  
       Scorpius brings the shovel to bare with a sharp toothed smile, “Oh you will have to do far better than that, IN-breed.”  
      The father lunges with his own rage.   Tired Scorpius may be, but enraged he is even more.  He uses the handle to punch the guy in the gut making him fold over and stumble backwards.  His brother shakes off his own dazing to grab the shovel pulling Scorpius off balance and punch him in the stomach.  
       Without his black reinforced leather armor, Scorpius is as mortal as the next man.   That punch hurt.   On the other hand, just like any struck male Scarran, it makes him spit out a snarl and whirl.  The father trips over the fallen woman in his attempt to help his brother attack this new freak-foe.  
       The boy can see that poor Alyssum is going to get crushed in the melee. Hooking his hands under her arms, he tries to drag her out of the battle zone.   Pushing her heals into the ground, Alyssum does her best to help him.   She can hear the blows making their mark on Scorpius.   More of the heavier blows though are making their mark on the other two.   
         The boy can’t watch.   His father and uncle had no reason to taunt the poor innocent woman who had done nothing but tend her garden.   It sickened him to hear what they had done to the last set of freaks that lived near here.   He tried to stop them from harming this woman, but he is too young and too small to ever be able to match ideals or strength against them.   In the end, he did what he could and what he knew was right by pulling her away.   As the blows become heavier and all three of the males are making more and more violent strikes, the boy pulls Alyssum’s head into his lap and bows over it in protection.   Even if this new man looses, he will not let his father or uncle hurt this woman any further.   On top of that he does not want either her or himself to witness the gruesome attack.  
       The boy doesn’t look up when they call his name in garbled chokes of their sliced throats.   Yes his tears maybe streaming down his face, for as much as he hates what they were doing and what they stand for, they are still his family.   Dying family.   His uncle’s voice goes silent and the father curses the son for not helping as his life is taken as well.   The boy sobs over the top of wilting Alyssum.  
  
            Scorpius, now tainted with all three adult males’ blood, falls to his knees.  He hears the sobbing.   Crawling on his hands and knees, he snarls in that deep throated way of his, “Let her go.   NOW!”   He makes it clear, he might be tired and beaten but he has more than enough strength to slaughter a pup like him.  
        The boy rocks over Alyssum, “No, no…. please, please… they shouldn’t have…”  
       Scorpius stalls.   It’s not Alyssum that is sobbing, it’s the boy.  With this fact made clear, he knows it’s safe to stop and gather himself for a moment.   “I won’t harm you, Boy,” his exhausted softer Sebacean side comes out.   
       Still clutching her, the young man raises his head.   Seeing Scorpius bloodied by his family in protection of this woman, he gulps.   Already the bruises and welts are beginning to swell on this strange man‘s face.   Scorpius doesn’t move.   His chest pants and heaves trying to cool his rage and body temperature.   He looks from the boy to the woman.   Blood is soaking her rags of clothing.    “How badly did they hurt her?”  
       With a quivering voice the shy boy states, “Uh, I probably shouldn’t look seeing how she is your… mate?”  
        Like another blow to his already tortured chest, Scorpius sighs heavily.   “Are you alright?”   
      “I-I don’t know.  What will you do to me?”   The boy shivers holding Alyssum’s head tightly to himself like a shield.  
     Scorpius gives a huff and then a smile, “If you crush her head in your fear it might not be good.”  The boy blanches.   Scorpius crawls closer to them and extend his hands to take the woman.   Relaxing his grip on bloodied woman, Scorpius sinks to his haunches and takes her from the boy.  “Oh Alyssum.”  
       Now he rocks her in his arms while looking at how bad the attack was to her.   There are some deep puncture wounds, a couple bullet grazings and shots, facial bruises and … the scar.   The scar on her shoulder is now extended to a breast where they tried to mutilate it.  
       The boy scrambles from his spot.   Scorpius presses the tattered fabric to the deepest wounds and tries to figure out where to start.   “Hey you have to stay with me.  You can’t die on me too.   Do you hear me?”  
        Her hand shakes and slides over his on her deepest wound, “You came back?”  
        “You thought I would leave?”  
       Weakly she nods, “I thought I would never see you again.   Back to your stars and glorious command.”  
       With a hushing tone, presses his lips to a nasty bruise on her face, “Shh, another time we will talk.   For right now, you must live.”  
         A cloud of dust lets Scorpius and Alyssum know that the boy has returned.   Fumbling, he lets the small medical kit spill out all over the ground.   “Um, gosh what did Mom tell me to use… I umm… I’m so sorry, I don‘t know what I‘m doing!!”  
          Alyssum struggles to turn her head to the boy.   From there, her words are breathy and labored, “Get a bowl from the kitchen…. grab one of the root bulbs from the window…. fill the bowl from the blue barrel of water.”  
       Stumbling the boy dashes off to do as she asked.   She turns back to Scorpius, “Please, don’t kill him.   He did nothing but try to stop them.”  
       Scorpius strokes her pale face with his bloodied hand, “Shh, don’t worry about him.   Worry about you.”  
       “Scorpius… I worry about you.”  She tries to nuzzle into his battered chest.   For that he looks away.   He can’t look into those soft red eyes.   The same ones that hold a sense of hope and promise of a future.  It’s a good thing she is hoping for a future for that means she isn‘t going to let this beating defeat her but it’s still hard to look into one hoping for a long term future when he is still confused by his own.  
     Before he has a chance to berate or ponder anything much further, the boy returns with all that she asked.   Scorpius and the boy follow the weak woman’s careful instructions for making the paste for her wounds.   She also makes Scorpius put it on his own.   Through all this, no one says anything about the two dead men lying in the garden tainting the soil.  
  
      After the wounds have been tended, Alyssum looks like she is ready to take her much needed rest.  Scorpius rises to his feet, holding her against himself.   The boy dashes ahead holding the door open to the cabin and then respectfully waits outside while the couple settle within.    
      Once within, Scorpius sets her feet down holding her carefully about the waist as he shoves the tattered and shredded fabric to the floor.   With a jerk of his hand, pulls the light weight sheet from the bed and wraps it around her battered body.   Leaning heavily on him, she helps him cover her modestly.    
      “I’m not a weak fool, Scorpius,” she tries to shove him away, but his arm cinches snugger.  
     “Nor was I.”  
     With that she looks into his soft light-blue eyes understanding their point fully.   His face maybe as battered as hers, but so is the strength in those eyes.   With a light hand to his bruised cheek she smiles, “No, we aren’t, are we?”  
       Scorpius can feel it now.   Those infatuation and hopeful feelings of a relationship fluttering in his gut .  It’s like bile to the heart.   For all these years he has fought one species against another and now the war is within himself.   Betrayed and tricked too many times, he can not allow himself or herself to give in so easily.  
       He holds her at arms length while stepping away from her.   “I will not kill the boy but he must not stay.   Others will come looking for him.”  
       Clutching the sheet around herself she watches him retreat from her.  With a soft plead, whispers his name, but he shakes his head and escapes out the door.  
  
       Back outside, Scorpius finds the young man standing over the beaten bodies of his father and uncle.   Tears stream down his face.   He’s so lost.     
       Scorpius keeps his distance watching for a moment.   He is curious as to what the young man’s reaction will be.   Will he come after him or will run away?   Is the boy angry at them or him?  What will this young man do?  
       Finally the youth turns to Scorpius, “I know this may be too much to ask of you, but I can not do it alone.   Will you help me bury them?”  
       Staying rooted to his spot, the alien decides to treat the youth with the maturity he showed in protecting Alyssum.   “That depends on what you plan on telling the others.”  
       “They were attacked by a wild animal.”   Seeing Scorpius’ face flare with an angry snarl, quickly the younger hands wave, “No, not you!  See we are hunters!”  He points to the forest where they obviously had come from and then to their kills set out by the shed.  
         Scorpius’ shoulders slump to the misunderstanding.   The young man turns his back on his family, “Mother has been telling them for years to leave this place alone but they just wouldn’t.  They were determined to come back and finish off the fight they started years ago.  My older brother was a baby then so this trip they said they were going to teach me what it means to be a man.  My ‘right of passage’ so they called it was to dispense with a mutant.”   Scorpius takes a step forward hearing the story and putting the pieces together.   He hears the cabin door open so he knows Alyssum is hearing it too.  
        “The were furious when the woman wouldn’t tell them where her mate was.   They called me weak when they struck her the first time and I cried out.  How-how could they?   She’s no bigger than my mother just doing her laundry!”  
       Scorpius takes a couple more steps forward as the boy continues his story, “I’m sorry what they did to you so many years ago.   They said they broke your back.”  
       Now the older male lays his hands on the young man’s shoulders he does not even bother correcting the fact he is not the man they beat to death all those years ago.  “Young man, I have been a soldier and I will tell you this, beating a man for his uniqueness is not a sign of maturity, but defending an innocent is.   You have earned your right of passage by making the hardest call of all:  turning against those who raised you in fear and cowardice to stand for what you know deep in your soul is right.   You have taken on the attributes of your honorable mother.  You have nothing to be ashamed of.”   With a proud smile, he grips the shoulders, “I would be honored to help you bury your past so that you may move forward in peace.”  
        In what might be a childish move, the younger body wraps his arms around the elder man before him and sobs into his chest.   Uncomfortable at the gesture, Scorpius just lightly pats the young man’s back but doesn‘t shove him away.   He glances over his shoulder and sees Alyssum dipping her head  back inside.   She does not need to do anything more than to know her brother’s murder has not only been avenged but learned from as well.  
         Scorpius pats the clinging males once more, “If we want to begin, you might need to let go.   And I’m going to need a bit of help.   I think I broke a rib or two.”  
         Leaping back the boy swipes his tears away, “Oh geeze I‘m so sorry Mister, I‘m --”  
         “It‘s alright.   Let‘s just get this over with,”  Scorpius takes a few careful deep breaths where the boy might have broken a couple more.  
  
         It takes them until past dusk to get the bodies wrapped, carted away (with the help of the alpaca) and then buried at the edge of the forest.  There is no personal talk to the horrible task.   Both are hurting and upset by what needs to be done and are wise enough to know the less said right now the better.    Besides, neither really feels like talking anyways.   Once the bodies are covered over, Scorpius respectfully steps aside while the boy says the ritual words.    Silently to himself, Scorpius says them for Dandy seeing that the crime against him has also been laid to rest.   
       It’s hard to say who is more tired by the time they get back.   Both were starting to nod off and stumble by the time they returned to the warmly illuminated homestead. Scorpius leaves the animal haltered and tied to the fence only dropping the cart shafts to the ground.  With a shove he pushes the kid towards his hammock, knowing that he would be too tired to unwrap his bedroll.  Smartly, the kid does not ask and just does as ordered.  
        Scorpius opens the cabin and heads over to the bed.  His intent was to check on Alyssum, even if he is half dead himself.  Coming to the edge, sets his hip on the edge and presses the back of his hand to her forehead.   A little warm but not too feverish, a good sign.   Pulling the blankets down, he sees that her wounds are only pricks of blood spots here and there to the dressings not sopping like he feared.   Covering her back up he prepares to rise bit finds his other wrist in a tight grip.   He turns back.   
           The red optics are so soft in the low lamp light.  Pleading.   Scooting herself to the side he notices she does not lift the blanket to offer him under, but to offer him room on her bed.   Just like Staleek did for Midge that first night.   Comfort and companionship nothing more.   A safe place to lay a head.  Then she lets go of his wrist and closes her eyes leaving him to make his decision in peace.  
         Scorpius ponders her offering.   His body is beaten and sore and he has no other place to lie.   It’s true he has been in far worse places and it’s not like she is offering her battered body.   All she is offering is a simple comfort.   With a loud sigh as warning, he pulls off his boots and lays down fully clothed beside her.   The next sound was not of his choosing.   A long moan of satisfaction escapes every pore of his body leaving him incapacitated.   A soft giggle in his ear lets him know she is moving back closer to him.  
        Both of them are so hurting that the only way she can snuggle up to him right now is to lace her fingers with his.   He gives a weak squeeze back and finds sweet darkness pulling him under.


	10. Chapter 10

   With a groan and a sigh, Scorpius rolls to his side only to be blinded by the light from the window.  He drapes a wrist over his eyes and wills the pulsing pain in his ribs and gut to go away.   The stinging to the cuts on his arms and legs he can handle.  He knows he should be used to being shove and around and hunted while constantly checking to see if his head is still attached but he’s not used to it since becoming some what domesticated.   The excitement of being in power has lost all it’s appeal.  
     With another painful grunt, rolls to the other side in hopes of taking the pressure off that rib.  He clonks into another head who gives her own whimper to the light bump.   Opening his eyes finds himself looking at a beautiful but battered woman.   “Alyssum?”  
       All she can do is ‘hum’ in response to her name being groggily pulled out.  It warms her dearly to hear it after so many years of silence.  On top of that, to feel a safe warm person beside her.  These emotions she feels fluttering inside her sound so much like what her mother felt for her father but she is also no fool.   Alyssum slowly opens her eyes and sees the soft ice blue ones looking back at her.     
        A breath away from each other yet worlds apart.   So close they have cared for each other but so far to care for each other more.   A few things they have shared but could have a life time more if only….   Both of them close their eyes afraid to read any further into what they saw.   Fear of going where he has been hurt before and she afraid of tread on something never experienced before.  
        So rest pulls them back down again and into tortured dreams of being beaten and torn away from each other again.     
~~       
        This time, Scorpius is forced to get up.   The call of nature is too primal to avoid any longer.   When he carefully returns, he sees Alyssum is sitting up carefully as well.   “Please go see to the boy, I can handle this.”  
         Scorpius nods to the wise decision and heads out.  What he finds surprises him very much.   The kill the family had found is laid on the table, but the boy and the packs are gone.   Swiftly he looks in all directions but he can see that the boy has been gone for quite awhile.  Looking up he can see the sun is past noon and heading back onto it’s decent side.  He and Alyssum have slept much longer than he anticipated.    
        With a sigh of relief, he turns back to the cabin.  Caring for the boy is just one more thing he did not need in his life at this time.   The conversation he had with the young man had left him with the confidence that Alyssum will be left in peace on her homestead from now on.   The fight yesterday also confirmed a few things to the black circle on the calendar.  
         Scorpius pulls the door back open and stalls.    Scars or not Alyssum is a gorgeous woman that he can not ignore.  Right there before him he can see her bare back with that red hair being brushed over her shoulder leaving her strong freckled spine exposed.   Strong as a Scarran with the gorgeous curves to the hips of a Sebacean female.   He finds it impossible to move as he watches her set the brush down and wince to lift her hands to try braiding her hair from the top.   Two more times she tries but can’t get her arm to help.   Screeching out, she slams a fist to the bed and a sob cracks.  
      For all this time she has been strong and safe on her own.  Something had told her to hide but she thought it was Scorpius coming back so she didn’t and then they were upon her before she could do anything.   A moment of weakness that her brother had told her not to fall for and…  She slams her fist down again.  
        “Allow me.”  
        Hanging her head down, she feels his gentle hands comb up and under her nape to pull the long tendrils out.  It’s been so long since he’s had his fingers in hair that he finds himself playing with it gently while she pants out her frustration.  
         His soft massaging of her head and hair calms her quite quickly.  Seeing that it’s helping, he threads and soothes some more.   “Better?”  
         She nods.   “Should I ask how you know to do this?”  
         That takes a deep painful breath from his chest, “I had a lover once who enjoyed my touch in her hair as much as I did.”   His hand is ever so tender panning and weaving his way through.  
         “Had?”  
         “Yes, had.”    Just as he is afraid to tell her blatantly, she is afraid to ask a painful question.  Instead, she pans her hand over his seated deep into the nape-nest.   It’s her soft way of asking but also leaving him in peace if need be.  “I killed her for her treachery,” he nearly whispers.  
       Traitor, a very painful word to both of them.     
      “Is that why you were truly escaping your command?”  She squeezes back.  
       Pulling his hand away, he lifts the brush and carefully puts the locks in order to be braided, “No.   I was, betrayed again by my captain.”  
      She knows her life is quite simple to understand:   she was cast away because a more useful tool came into their possession.   Yes, the same tool they abused.   While she has been physically struggling to make a life for herself here, he has been twisted and turned and abused by the word ‘trust’.  
        
         Scorpius begins the braid.   Not a tight one that will hurt but not a loose one that will fail either.   A compromising gentle one.   He reaches over to take the tie but finds her hand covering it.   “Scorpius, I have a very simple life.   I have nothing to hide or to gain.”  
        Laying his hand over the top of hers he gives a warm comforting breath into her nape, “I know, Alyssum.   That is why I am wary of tainting it.   I am no angel.”  
       Her head turns and looks into his not so cold eyes, “Maybe, but you sure felt like a guardian yesterday.”  
        He huffs pulling back and taking the tie, “With hideous timing maybe!”   In nothing flat he has the braid secured and pushes himself away from her naked form.  “The boy left us his kill.   It should be prepared but I am not so sure how to do such a thing.   I know normally a Scarran would eat it raw, but I do not have the pallet for that.   You?”  
         Alyssum brings the blanket to her chest and turns round to him, “I will be there in a moment.”  
         Scorpius finds himself staring at her in the natural light.  So innocent and yet so primal.  So pure and yet so scarred by life. “D-do you want me to look at those wounds?”  
          She drops the blanket and he finds himself cussing out loud.   “Those bastards!  Oh could they!!”    With her naked he can see the old scars from when her brother had been killed and then the new ones where they tried to finish their mutilation.   Alyssum drops her head and flushes in humiliation and tries to turn away.  
      In two strides Scorpius  is in front of her and cupping her chin, “You do not need to hide those from me.   You have seen my own body beaten and scared, right?”    Alyssum nods carefully in his hand.  “I got those from the bitch that ’raised’ me, if that’s what they want to call it.   I was bred, not born.   I was an experiment.   I always have been.   But you….”  
       Both hands pan over her soft bruised face, “Oh damn, Alyssum, you were created.   Do you understand the difference?  You are a work of art, I was nothing but a monster.   A beast of burden!”  
       Alyssum grips her hands around his wrists keeping him right there, refusing to let him retreat.   “Please don’t leave me, Scorpius.   Please, I understand if you have to flee in order to get the adventure or revenge you need--”  
        Scorpius huffs again and pulls away from her.   “I’ve tried that and lost.”   Pounding fist to his chest he snarls, “That’s all I have been striving for.   Revenge against the Scarrans for raping my mother to breed me!   Revenge against the Peace Keepers for taking me in and then usurping my plans right and left.   Revenge against anyone who spoiled my attempts to conquered the wormhole technology that would end this bloody war of my two races.  Revenge, revenge, revenge.   All of it for not!”  
         Alyssum pulls the blanket back over her chest to give herself something to hug while he spills forth everything he is.  
         “And fate just has to laugh in my face!   I did not want love.   I did not want family.  I did not want riches.   I wanted… peace.   I wanted to control my life.   But I had to be depended on so much and so many.   Everywhere I turned they were trying to use and abuse me.   I had no point in this universe.   My life was… a mistake.”   He drops his shoulders to look down to his bare feet.   “And fate wouldn’t even allow me to take my own life.   Once more had to show me that I was NOT in control.”  
  
        The soft female voice joins his revelation, “I knew that when I was abandoned I would never have a taste of the love my mother shared with my father for even a brief period of time.   I knew that fate had been cruel by not only making two enemies fall in love but then to tear them apart again.   And then to cast their offspring aside like dust in the wind.   Fate is an evil beast that is cold and heartless.   I decided to spit on it and keep living.  So it decided to take my brother and remind me once more it was in control.”  
        Both of them raise their faces to look at each other.   One with the sweet innocent eyes of a Sebacean one with the eyes of a broken and crushed leader.  
        Scorpius answers the next piece of her conversation, “And then fate has decided to throw the one man who caused your banishment right in your face.”  
         She looks up at him answering his issue, “And you get thrown into a woman who shares your fate.”  
           “Do we tempt fate or do we curse it?”   He asks.  
           “I will not allow fate to make my decisions now.   I will make my own.”  
          A slow smile comes across his face.   “I do like the way you think.”  
  
       Alyssum laughs lightly, “Doesn’t mean I’m going to sleep with you so easily.”  
       To his delight, releases a full bellied laugh only to be caught short by the pain to his ribs.  Alyssum groans with him but he waves her concern away easily, “All well worth it, Alyssum.”  
       With a careful hand to his aching rib, gives her the softest looks of concern, “Please let me look at those wounds?”  
        “Will it make you feel better?”   She presses back.   From his revelation she gets the impression that he did not let his emotions or concerns out easily.   The pain to his lover betraying was heard quite loud and clear so this is her careful attempt to letting him know she will never betray his feelings.  
       With a soft release, he nods.  It warms him that she understood and respects him this much.    
       Alyssum lays back down and he grabs the basket from last night that had their medical supplies.   Carefully she tries to cover herself, but to no avail.   For the wounds are pretty much all over her torso.   Scorpius gives her a soft smile and strokes her cheek.  
       “I wasn’t kidding when I said you are beautiful.  Has anyone ever told you that?”  
       With a soft shake of her head, “I was dressed as a nun, remember.”  
         He takes a damp cloth and blots away some of the excess blood and paste being mindful to the tender skin, “Even nuns are beautiful.”  
       “So are Scarrans,” she gives back her own compliment to him and her father.  He only snorts to that.   “Scorpius, please,” she tries to get him to accept her words as she was to accept his.  
       He doesn‘t look at her just focusing on his work, “Not now, Alyssum.  It’s just too soon for both of us.”  Her chest stills in holding her breath.   That does make him look up, but he says nothing more and so silently they go through the motions of patching each other up.  Once that is accomplished, he takes another set of clothes and goes outside to change while leaving her to dress inside.  
       Sure both of them have seen each other naked for medical care, but still the act of getting dressed together would be too personal as if they were in a bound and committed relationship.  Yes maybe he has decide to say here on this planet and even on her homestead but it doesn’t mean he is in any rush to make a relationship with her.  
      Sure his body would love to take her into his arms and bury his face into her hair, but that doesn’t make a relationship.  With a curse, he wonders if he even knows WHAT a relationship is.   Both of those females were so close to him and used him.   Like a fool, he had let his defenses down with them.   Maybe not completely down, but down enough for them to play him for the fool.  
       Scorpius throws his tainted clothes into the burn pile and grabs the shovel.   Hurting or not, the last thing he wants Alyssum to see is the blood spilled on her crops.   First he chops them with the blade and then buries them in the turned over ground.   It would be better for them to be turned to mulch and next year’s seed than to try swallowing down the blemished crops.   No sooner does he have that done, then he hears a sound at the outside table.  
        Apparently his rage had caused his ears to tune out her coming outside.   He finds her leaning on the table and carefully cutting the hide from the game that was killed.   No one says a thing just focusing on the task at hand.  
      By the time the useful parts of the animal have been cut, cleaned and stored into the deep storage unit, Alyssum looks like she is the one who had been attacked again.   She laughs a little looking down at herself, “You know for not being a soldier, I sure have my fair share of blood on my hands this week.”  
     Scorpius gives her a half amused smile watching her brush a fallen lock from her face.  
     Alyssum motions to the sack of unusable animal remains, “If you grab one side and I’ll take the other and I’ll show you what I do with these.”   Once more silent, he does as she says.  
     To his surprise, she takes him to a well used spot near the lake.  They set the sack down into a pretty deep divot in the ground and Alyssum shows him the next miracle.   With a few stones pulled from the make shift dam, lake water pours into the divot.   Almost immediately, the bones and entrails begin to bubble as if eaten by acid.  Scorpius’ eyes go wide while she puts the rock back sealing up the dam.  
       “Just as a warning, don’t feed the alpaca from the wrong barrel,” she tells him.  
      “I-I don’t understand,” the scientist in him is just baffled.  
      Alyssum shrugs, “I don’t know myself but I did notice that when a rare animal drank from the lake it would scream in horrible pain and… die.   It looked like a chemical burn or something from the inside out.   So, Dandy and I were just as baffle.”  
       Scorpius points to the lake, “But you and I have been drinking it and I have been submerged, how?”  
        Running a finger over her Scarran trade marks she tips her head, “I think it’s one of the blessings we have been given.   It would also explain why not one comes here.   In town they call this Bitter Lake.   Supposedly it’s poisoned.”  
         Watching her step away, he sees her go to the lake shore and wade in.   The water does nothing to the fabric.  He turns back to the pit of animal remains.  The sack remains but any mucus or blood covered entrails are dissolving.  The bones are bleached white.  This was something he had NOT tested in his experiments.  
         The blood on his hands is really beginning to itch and so he too comes to the water’s edge preparing to just wash the tainting off.   Seeing Alyssum set her fabric up onto a near by rock he changes his mind and turns to head back to the cabin.  
         “I promise not to look if you don’t,” she tenderly calls back to him.  
         He turns back and sees that only her head is above the water.  No it’s not murky, but the day is beginning to set and there is plenty of room in the lake.   Besides, he really could use the weightlessness of the water to ease his aching body.   After all, he’s not as young as he used to be.  
           “Oh hell,” he huffs and launches himself into the lake.   “Ohhhh,” he groans into the sweet wonderfully feeling of encompassing water over his body.  Sore or not, something about being surrounded and supported by the cooling water is something he just really enjoys.   Not a sensation you get often on board a space ship and not something Scarrans are known for.   A steaming sauna sure but not this.  
       On and on he just lets the water comfort his aching form until he is forced to come up for air. The giggling from off to his left makes him turn.   For that, he tugs his sopping shirt off and flings it at her.  
      “Oh is that all you have?”   She teases again.  
      With a soft scowl, he flings his pants over too.  Easily she catches those too and tosses them over with her clothes.   With a smirk, she gathers them up and starts to head out of the lake.   Oh he knows what she is going to do!  
       Reaching past the pain in his ribs he kicks off and long arm stokes his way to her.  With a squeal of false terror she tries to move faster to the shore with her stolen cargo clutched to her chest.   He’s swifter than her and also a soldier of cunning ways.   Diving down, he tugs at her ankle throwing her off balance.  
        Yes he knows this was all in fun and game not to real malice so he doesn’t hold her under.  Nor does he let her keep the prize.   He snatches what he can of the fabric and heads away.  In the waning light he holds up the fabric when he gets his footing.   With a pursed face, finds that he has snagged her clothes not his.  
         Alyssum pops up to the surface and begins laughing again seeing the floating fabric before her is not hers but his.   “I like fate.”  
       Now his scowl is a bit more menacing, “You change your tune too quickly, woman.”   Throwing the fabric to the beach, he begins his next move.   Alyssum tosses the fabric in her possession to him and tries to back pedal, but he catches and cast that aside too.  
      “Scorpy-”  
     “Don’t EVER call me that,” he snarls continuing his move.  
     “I’m sorry, Scorpius,” she ever so respectfully apologizes.   With a curt nod, he accepts it but still continues towards her.   Just to let her know he won’t harm her, shoots a smirk and raised brow before returning to the false menacing one.  She tries to smile but is a bit worried what he will do once he catches her, for she knows good and well he will.  
     First of all he’s in way better shape than she, second he is a cunning deadly warrior then lastly, she wants him to catch her.


	11. Chapter 11

  
  Scorpius finds himself standing chest deep in the water staring at the most beautiful creature in all the universe.  Fate, are you kind or cruel?   
      The red braid floating over her shoulder is so soft and begging to be touched.  He just takes in her presence and swallows hard.   Easily he could over power her and take her, but his heart has no desire to.  No, what he really wants is for her to come to him of her own accord.  He wants her to want him and not in a kneeling submissive term either.      Them.   Yes, he wants her to want ‘them’.  
      “Alyssum, I should leave.”  He finally finds his voice although his eyes do not leave hers.  
      For her, she is looking up to the only man who could truly understand her physical needs, but she worries if she can understand all of his emotional ones.   He was a man of great power and wielded it with a firm fist.   Could he even want to stay forever with her or even be interested in letting her meet her father after all that has happened?  Can either of them let go of those lives and make it solidly forever right here?  
       “Please don’t,” she slides forward.  He stands firm awaiting her next move or words.  “Scorpius…”  
        His breath hitches hearing his name breathed in such a innocent sweet way. He never thought he would hear an angel speak his name.  Still he can not move even though he knows he should.  
       Alyssum continues to look up to him slipping a hand onto his shoulder.  The muscles beneath his pale skin are taught and firm maybe even tense from the touch but he doesn’t move.   If anything, those ice blue eyes are turning dark as the hand comes up the side of the neck and cups the back.   “Scorpius, will you give me my first kiss?”  
       “Alyssum….” he is dawed and awed shaking his head so softly.  He doesn‘t deserve this honor.   He tries to remember his own first kiss, but can’t for it is tainted by Alyssum’s pure innocence before him now.  
       Raising her chin up so sweetly and pulling ever so carefully on the back of his neck she whispers her plea once more, “Please…?”  
        His head continues to lower while the hands unconsciously reach for her.  One slides around her naked waist below the water.  The other cups her sweet bruised cheek and tips it into position to press his dark lips to her red ones.   Ever so softly he makes a better grasp of hers showing her how to move.  Her body hums and melts to his soft touch.  
        Yes she had felt a laughing brutal hard grasp of a male’s lips against hers in mockery as another beat her brother for screaming to let her go, but she isn’t going to let Scorpius know that.   Nor is she going to let that moment ruin this.   If anything, this is going to ruin the other memory.  She presses harder into him begging to learn more.  
        Her free hand slides over his ribs and around his lithe muscular back asking to be held tighter.  Willingly he pulls her closer, parting his lips to take a better grasp of her mouth giving off a soft moan of his own.  Her own part underneath, without him even thinking, his tongue reaches out and tests the entrance.  Surprised by the tentative exploring new touch, she gasps and he breaks the kiss instantly- much to her disappointment.  
       Scorpius takes a step back releasing his hands as well.  No the kiss has not set fire to an arousal of the sensual physical side.   If anything, it has washed his heart and his mind making him feel pure and honorable again.  With a smile, he caresses her face, “I won’t leave, but I think I am going to head in.  So if you would be a lady and let this man leave with some dignity, turn your back?”   He steps back once again.     
      Her hand reaches out and catches his hand before he can completely drift out of reach.  Stepping into his hand, pulls it’s palm to her mouth and presses in closing her eyes as the fingers cup her cheek.  When he doesn’t pull away, she takes a chance and opens them slowly to pull on his damp skin.   It’s the last expression she ever expected to see…. A sweet tenderness for her alone.   It’s an expression she has seeing in other committed couples out in the market place, but it was one she never thought would ever bestowed upon her.  
         His hand slips down to allow his thumb to circle her lips ever so softly, “I’ll be here in the morning, I promise.”  With that she lets his hand retreat and turns her head aside to that he can wade to shore and onto the beach.  
         She never promised she wouldn’t look.  His dusk-lit naked silhouette striding back to the homestead is one she will burn into her memory.   The stride of confidence, but not arrogance.   Yes, she has seen him stump in defeat and even in painful weakness.   This is none of that.   It is a stride of hope.  What really makes her smile is when he stops and starts to turn his head over his shoulder.   He doesn’t fully turn so his eyes can see her, but just enough to let her know, he caught her looking.   With a chuckle, keeps his back to her and continues to stride way.  
           Falling back under the water, she lets off a delicious laugher of bubbles.     
  
~8~  
         The weeks pass.   He is very careful not to let their budding romance become too intimate.  Hard on his part?  Amazingly, no.   He enjoys her company so much that he finds it easy to just enjoy being with her in day to day tasks.   Scorpius will not lie, she is beautiful woman that he would more than love to curl his body around forever, but there are just too many times he got burned by just physical relationships.   He wants this one to last…  
        Forever.  
  
         “Scorpius?”   Alyssum looks up from painting another of her pots seeing him pondering and perplexing.   “Is everything alright?”  
         Shyly he smiles, “Of course.   Everything is perfect.”  
          That doesn’t satisfy her though.   She knows that look on his face when he is deep in thought.   She sets her brush into the water and comes over to where he is leaning against the tree braiding a rope.  He tries to smile broader shaking her worries aside with his soft movements, but she won’t have any of it.  She wraps her hand over his and steps in closer to him.   It gives him no choice for his body reacts on it’s own curling an arm around her waist.   Here they lean together, embracing and feeling the warm of each other‘s aura.  
          “Scorpius, please.   You don’t have to--”  
          He cuts that age old question off again, “The days are getting shorter.  How cold will it get?   Should be begin preparations?”   He read the journal, he knows there will be blizzards on this plateau.  
      Alyssum grasps his chin pulling their eyes to look at each other and gives him a firm warning.   “Look, you may have been a hot shot Commander or whatever over there, but you can not hold your secrets from me forever.   There is no room for secrets here.”  
       Scorpius sniggers to her attempt to dominate his will. With his own thumb and forefinger pulling on her chin he smiles, “I was pondering the beauties of nature not of leaving.   I have no desire to leave.”  
        She swallows, “Even if its to take me away?”  
         His thumb caresses, “Do you really want to go out there and fight for your life as a half-breed always having your loyalties questioned?  No, I don‘t want that for you.”    
        “But you-”  
        “Will not have your life put at risk for being my mate.”  
        “M-mate?”   Her eyes go wide in shock.  
        He nods beaming even brighter,  “That’s what I have been contemplating.   How to ask you to let me fully into your life.  Some do it with ceremony.  Some just take.  Some are passionate hormonal things, but not I.   I have never wanted anything more than to be with you forever.”  
           Tossing the rope aside, he wraps both hands around her waist holding her trapped in his looped embrace.  “I have no idea what to say to you.   I have never wanted to merge with my life with anyone permanently.   I have wanted to dominate and lead but for the first time ever, I am wanting a partner, a mate… the other half of my life.   Fated or mated, I don’t give a damn any more.  Will you accept me?”  
         “Oh Scorpius…..,”  she is at such a loss for words.   Sure she has seen the ceremonies in the village square of a couple becoming a bound family unit.   Sure she heard her mother cry when she heard that Staleek had been forced to take a mate for political reasons.  Now, she could have something that her mother never had.  More than that, something that she had thought fate had cursed her to never have.  
          Both of them know this has nothing to do with their similar bi-species tying them together.  It helps, but the truth of the matter is that they are two wounded and healing beings who need each other desperately.  They know there is not going to be a problem of their physical joining, just the emotional one they have been working on and now here it is.  
          “Yes,” she loops her own hands around his neck.  
          “Yes,” he beams back.  
          With a smirk she teases, “Normally that is sealed by a kiss.”  
           “Um, I’ve heard that as a rumor.  Are you sure it’s fact?”   With a giggle she doesn’t give  him a choice and seals his lips with her own.   It’s not chaste but nor is it heated.   No, this is most certainly the sealing of lives and commitment vows.  
           When the kiss breaks the two just take in each other as if a whole new world has been opened up to them.  She runs a soft palm over his chest, “Tonight…”  
         But he shakes his head softly to the request.  He knows he needs just a little bit more time before he consummates their relationship.  “The first snowfall, for now, I can feel the chill in the air and I know it will be here soon.   Please, you need to help me understand this ‘wintering’ process.”  
        Alyssum nods into his wise counsel.   It will give her a chance to prepare anything special they may want for their ‘first night’.   “First of all, it might start getting too cold for you to sleep out here at night even before the snow falls.  Please, come in.”  
       He nods, “Alright, I will grant you that request but on my terms.”  He taps her nose, “No fair trying to entice me.”   She has to laugh a little.  Since the lake incident after the attack, they had been very careful to stay modest.   Both of them could feel the intensity of passion and lust trying to tempt them knowing that if he did decide to leave, she would be crushed… if not worse.  
       Alyssum steps back and takes him inside by the hand.   There she pulls out an old list that she uses over and over again.  He can see new things have been added to the list by the different types of ink.   He hums and looks over the list.   “This is quite a lengthy process.   When were you planning to tell me all this?”  
      She looks up to him sheepishly, “When you decided if you were going to stay through the winter or not.   I was not going to guilt you into helping me with this.   I’ve done it so many times before, I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”  
       Scorpius smiles, “Well now that that has already been settled, where shall we start?”  
  
      Alyssum shows him how she has it all mapped out.   One of the things he notices is that the alpaca will need to be slaughtered and the meat frozen into the snow bank.  She shrugs, “I couldn’t feed both it and I through the winter.   I tried a couple of times but….  Alpaca’s don’t do well inside.  On top of that, one time we were attacked by wolves and they carried it off still alive.  So…”  
       Scorpius shakes a knowing finger in the air.   “Next year, I will work on a larger barn for you.   I think that might help and make things more productive.   Also, if we can get some fowl,  fresh eggs through the winter.”  
       Alyssum looks up to him and once more can see there is something else stirring in his brain but he has it well hidden behind his care for her.   What is he thinking about?  What is he planning?”  
        With a clap to his hands though, he turns those questions aside.  “Well, let’s get started.”  
  
~8~  
        Over the next few weeks, the temperature drops and the preparations continue.  On and on lines are taken down, crops are pulled and stored away.   During the winter, seeds will be pulled from some while others are consumed.   Some budding plants are placed into pots to be cared for through out the winter in order to make a fresh start for the thawing spring.     
         Inside, they begin making preparations to made the bed large enough for both of them and a newly padded mattress.  This process has them both sleeping on the floor for a bit while the whole place is reorganized and adjusted.  Scorpius has to admit, he’s finding it harder and harder to remain chaste.   He finds himself praying for snow!  
  
~8~  
      His prayer comes two days later with the first light falls of snow.   She gives him a pout answering that her body is not ready for him.   He pulls her into his arms when her silent tears begin to fall.   With a chuckle, he kisses the top of her head.   “Shhh, these things happen, darling.   I’m not upset.   Besides, this isn’t a true snow.   It’s just fluffies and a hint of what is to come.   All it is doing is telling us it’s time to batten down the hatches.  Right?   Final preparations?”  
       She nods and hugs him ever so tightly, “I love you, Scorpius.”  
       “And I love you more than any power time or space could ever give me.”   To this he gives her an encompassing and promising kiss.  
          
       A few days later, the real snow begins to fall from low and dark heavy clouds.  To this they know it is time to slaughter the alpaca.   As much as it pains them both, they know there is no choice in order for all to survive the winter.   Rapidly this time, they prepare the meat and hide   The bones (with some meat) are set  far far off to the side for the wolves that have been in the area, the hide hung into the shed and the door barred heavily.   On one of the ‘down’ days this winter, it will be trudged out to be finished, but not tonight.  
         No tonight, the meat is sealed into the metal unit that the wolves can’t get into (staked to the ground heavily) but the snow will do it’s job in keeping chilled and preserved.  Tonight, they have other plans.  
         Yes both are tired, but also hungry for more than a good meal.   She prepares the meal, he prepares the bath.     
         By the time she has the meal done, he has the door barred tight.   They enjoy a silent meal of good meat and fresh vegetables.   For the ones they will have later on will be cured ones.   Tonight, they plan to cure another aching need.  
        He shushes her to the tub while he takes care of the dishes.   She won’t have it, and tugs his hand to join her while releasing the binds in her red hair to let it flow freely.  He lets the dishes fall into the sink’s suds and does as she bids.  
       To his further surprise of joy, he watches her release the draw strings to her dress letting it pillow at her feet.   Yes, both of them are a bit of a mess from the slaughtering today, (hence the shower) but neither takes notice of that.   All they can see is the last of the barriers falling between them.  
        Wounds have healed over only leaving scars.  It’s time to wash away everything and become solidly one.  No more hiding anything any more.  Scorpius pulls the shirt off over his head and drops his trousers.   This time she sees him in a whole new light.  Before she had seen him as a wounded being, now she sees her mate.   One that she will forever be bound and joined to.  
       He takes in the sight of one who is more than offering her body to him. This radiant creature is giving her life over to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes I have more planned, but this is all I have written so far.


	12. The Emperor's Mates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To *Wolfsredfalcon* this is dedicated to you and your agreement with me on Staleek needing more love and support. You really moved me with your kind words of encouragement.  
> Staleek looks back on his short life with Midge and Empress Falcrest shows her own support to her 'arranged mate'.

  
  As Alyssum and Scorpius are preparing for their first mating, her father, the Great Emperor Staleek sits in his window seat looking out over his empire.  The Scarran leader (now garbed only as a regular aristocracy in his comfort soft clothes) settles down to the battered and worn cushions of his favored place feeling anything but regal or great.  Today brought up a bucket full of emotions that he thought he had buried away a lifetime ago.  The resurfacing has made him very tired and feeling extremely lonely.  A broken man…again.  
   The lightest of knocks to his private door with the Empress‘ private quarters, lets him know she is asking permission to enter his private time.  They have been joined for awhile, but it’s a political arrangement, not one of love.  Sure they are amicable and maybe even friends, but most assuredly, not mates in their hearts and souls, hence separate living quarters.  He never said it, and she asked only once, only to see the deepest pain in his garnet red eyes before turning silently away.  It’s then that she knew the rumors were true about the lover the Sebaceans had ripped from his very bed and arms.  
    Today, she saw that pain again in his eyes.  Today she saw him more quiet than he should be.  Today was their daughter’s own marriage.  One thing Staleek and Falcrest did differently from their own, is allow her to marry  for love.  (Didn’t hurt that the intended is of an honorable political family as well!)  As happy as the Emperor was for his heir, the man’s heart is aching for the one love he had stolen from him and all they could have had.  
  
    Falcrest knocks again softly when she receives no answer from the first knocks.  Without turning his head from the window and barely above his brooding, he gives her  soft permission to enter.   The regal Empress is also in her relaxed finery as she floats into the dark room with the sad soft instrumental music from a tragic love story playing.   As soon as she notices that the chamber is only lit by starlight from the window she knows exactly where he is in the room.  The music only seems to illuminate his melancholy mood even more.  She did come to check on him, but this was not at all what she expected to see.  
    “Staleek?” she approaches the dark form against the glass.  
   “I’m here,” he mutters.  Then the heavy sigh and she sees the shadow of a mug being lifted to his lips.  
   “Staleek…,” this time her tone is almost pleading as she lays a hand to his shoulder.   Sometimes he would lay his own over hers in silent acceptance her compassion, but tonight it takes too much energy to.  It’s hard enough just to breathe with the sharp pains in his chest with every broken-heartbeat.  
      
      Staleek and Falcrest are not lovers, hell he’s not even sure if the Empress’ two heirs are even his!   The children were raised as if they were, loved as if they were, and that is all that really matters in the end.  Empress Falcrest is honorable and discreet to her ‘personal needs’, like wise she does not say anything about his lack of physical attention towards her.  Only she knows he has no others and rarely comes to her.    
    For now, it’s not the first time she has found him sitting in the dark like this, but this time is just so much more.   She saw that look in his eyes during today’s ceremony and truly worried for him.  He is an honorable man and devoted leader.  Greatly she respects him for both, thus she does her role as companion to the throne to be by his side in times of conquest and woe.  
     Softly she lets her hand slide from his sagging shoulder to sit at his feet and look out over the view with him.  It does surprise her that when he gets like this, he drinks a certain tea not a numbing intoxicating drink like so many others do.  
     “Will you ever tell me about her?”  It’s not a harsh question, it’s a soft plea into his heart.  
    
       Just then the song crescendos with the ballad of the lover’s cry for each other as they are torn from each other by warring family members.  The Emperor takes in a shaky deep breath and releases it slowly.  Falcrest narrows her focus and can see there is moisture on his cheeks.  It’s not that Scarrans don’t cry, or even that male Scarrans don’t cry, it’s just… she’s never seen Staleek (man or Emperor) even close to crying.  
     She moves to get closer, but his words halt her.  “Have you ever been in love, Falcrest?”  
     That does bring her to pull back and think, “When I was young and childish I suppose.”  
     The great head shakes lightly, “No, not infatuation or even lust, I mean pure love.  The kind where you can just sit together and feel it radiating off each other.  Where you can’t breathe unless the other was in the same room with you?”  
      Her throat swallows hard on her own intoxicating drink she brought with her.  She had no idea Staleek had this much passion for a single person.  She thought for sure he only had it for his race, not a single individual.  My gosh, he didn’t even cry when he held either of his children for the first time and she knows he cares greatly for them.  
     “No,” she whispers her confessional answer, “nothing like that.”  
    “Well…. It hurts when they go away.  It kills you when they are taken from you due to your title.”   He doesn’t even wipe his tears (hoping she can’t see them in the dark)  “I’m sorry I could not love you like you deserved.  You are not a bad person, I just…”  He buries his head into the corner of the window looking out the empire his heirs will rule.  
      Her hand reaches out to cup his cheek, “Staleek, I never wanted love and you have given me everything I deserved and more.  You have been kind, respectful and even a good lover… even if I wasn’t her.”  
     Yes, he was drunk the night their eldest was conceived.  Falcrest heard his lover’s name choked on as he released his seed into her.  The Empress is a practical leader and always knew what her function to the Scarran Empire would be.  Honestly, she thought Staleek was going to be brutally aggressive in pollination her womb creating the next dynasty as a simple cold function.  She really did not expect him to be tender, teasing, and wonderful.  He kissed her, he didn’t take her.  If anything, ever since, Falcrest has been a tad bit jealous of this rumored woman in his life who could invoke such emotions in the stanch and hard leader.  
      The second conception had been just a cold injection with nothing like the first one.  The one she expected.  As soon as he had release, he left her alone and locked himself in his private quarters.  Within moments, she heard him tear the place apart.  It took three days to repair all the damage he had done to his quarters that night.  He did not return back to the Citadel for three weeks.  He was leading attacks on any and all Sebacean pirates he could find.  Falcrest was worried that he had lost his mind.  
      When he got the communiqué from the medical staff stating the Empress was impregnated again, he returned to his role as sire and Sire.  He never bedded her again.  In a way it broke her heart.   Not for herself, but for him.  Ever the trained and honed diplomat, she did her role as Empress knowing she would never be his lover or emotional confidante.    
  
       “Falcrest…,” he whispers her name and turns his cheek into her soft touch.  She’s never heard him say her name so tenderly.  “I’m not good company for you…,” he leaves her to fill in ’tonight’ or ’ever’.   
       Lightly, he removes her hand from his cheek to rest it back against herself.  “Please go and live your life.  Take care of them.”  
        “Staleek, this isn’t over.”  With a sad heart for her leader and a good man, she rises to leave.  “I am going to search for her for you.”  
        “Don’t bother, it doesn’t matter any more.”  
         Falcrest leans pressing a kiss to the top of his brooding head, “It matters to me.”   Ever so softly she leaves the dark tomb leaving him to weep in solitude.  
  
         The guards who had known how much he enjoyed Midge’s private company had died trying to protect them both.  The documentation to her transfer had been found out to be falsified.  He never knew who she legally was.  The last image of her he had was fuzzy at best and she looked like a Sebacean pleading and screaming out for him.  Not just any kind of scream, but the same one his own heart had been screaming for her.  
      Three short weeks they had shared and only a day and a half of intimate love making.   All the other nights had been caresses and comfort.  All their conversations had been as if they were companions, friends and ….mates.   He had a mate for three weeks.   A lifetime in a short amount of time.  Maybe it’s stupid, but right now, he feels like a widower all over again.  
      The great and powerful Emperor Staleek brought to a crumbling mess by an unknown woman who told him over and over again not to trust him and he did more than that.  Not only did he trust her, he loved her with everything thing he had.  
       The clawed fist bangs on the reinforced protective glass which he knows he can not break,  just as he can not find a way out of this pain.  
        “I love you Midge.   I always will no matter how much time passes.”  
  
  
  
~~00~~  
   This time Empress Falcrest only gives two knocks to the main doors of his quarters (not the door joining their’s) and barges in.  Swiftly she shuts the door behind herself and locks it.   The surprised leader lifts his wide eyes from the confidential documents before him to see the Empress striding -near charging- right at him.   With a slap she plunks a file on top of the important ones before him.  
     “She was a soldier.  She was a spy.  She was a traitor to her own kind.”  
     Staleek looks between the document and then back up to his mate.  “What are you talking about?”  
    Falcrest smiles broadly tapping the file then she leans her glittering face into his.  “Her name really was Midge.”  
    Staleek gasps to hearing the name from another’s lips for the first time in eons.  He slumps back in the chair.  “What are you saying?”  
    Falcrest picks up the document and comes round the side to settle her hip on the desk.   “Staleek, you need to read this.  I think it would be best that you read it rather than I tell you.  But I want you to keep something in mind, she told you the truth when she said she was a traitor, but she didn‘t betray you.  She loved you completely.”  
     With that, she takes his hand and forces the document into it.  Whipping off the desk in delight, she takes three steps and then sways.   “Oh frill….,” collapsing to the ground.  
    In a second, he is out of his chair and at her side.  As he turns her head lifting it into his lap, he sees the blood coming out of her nose and mouth.   “Falcrest?!”   And he bellows for a guard.  
     One of hers and one of his guards burst down the door and gape in shock.  “Get a medic!  She’s sick or something.   Hurry!”  
     Hoisting her up, he tugs her to his chest and rocks her.   “Stay with me please, Falcrest.  You can‘t leave me too!”  
     She smiles, “Ah Staleek, you sweet man.   So powerful, so brave…so damn sexy.  Have you any clue how damned sexy you are!”  And she starts choking up more blood staining his royal robes.  
      “Falcrest-”  
     “No, you listen to me.  You have done so much for your people.   Find them-” she motions to the fallen data pad.   “You deserve to find them, don’t worry about me.   I’ve known for some time my time was coming.”  
     Viciously he shakes his head as pounding foot steps can be heard approaching.  “No, no, no!  Falcrest, stay with me!  PLEASE!”  
      “Go find your children…,” her eyes close and leans heavier into his arms as her breathing begins to slow.  “She was lucky to have your love….”  
       Staleek roars for them to hurry, but it’s too late by the time they arrive.   They whisk her away to the medical wing with her own guard at her side, but in his heart he already knows she is gone.  He’s had too many guards die protecting him that he knows a dead Scarran when he feels it.  The proud arms slump to the side taking in the fact Falcrest has died for him as well.  Instead of saving her strength for her people or her children, she gave her last breath for him.  Too much personal weight for him to take in right now.  
  
    “Sire?” his own personal guard asks.  
    “I’m coming.”   The guard picks up the data pad that had fallen from the Emperor’s lap and sets it on the table.  When his leader still has not stood up, he offers his hand.   Staleek looks down to the blood on his hands and then back up at his guard who saw it as well, but doesn’t care. Reluctantly, he accepts the hand and allows himself to be pulled up.  Silently they head towards the medical wing.  
    What keeps playing through Staleek’s mind is the fact she searched for his Midge.  Falcrest cared enough for him to search out an old rumor.  With all her other responsibilities and failing health, she took the time to look for something so personal for him.  The mother of his children, the Empress of his race and she cared about his heart.    
    His clawed hand grips at his chest with a new pain.  Instantly his guard grips his bicep in preparation for his leader to stumble.  Staleek doesn’t shake him off or stumble either.  Instead, takes a pained breath and continues on.  
  
      By the time the Emperor and his guard make it to the medical wing, her guard is outside the door looking forlorn.   It was just as Staleek had perceived; she’s gone.  The guard tries to pull up to his full height and take his post, but the expression can not be hidden.   Staleek lays a firm hard grip to the shoulder that can be felt even through the shoulder guards.  
     “Your duty is done, go rest.”  
    The guard’s head shakes and his voice fails, “Na-no Sire, I will-”  
     The red garbed leader turns to his own guard, “Get him home and to his family, it is my order.  All of them.”  
      With a snap of his fingers, the Emperor’s guard has two of his lieutenants at his side in a click.   While he is giving them instructions, Staleek does his duty as mate and highest ranking dignitary of the Scarran race overseeing the death of their honored Empress.  
  
 ~~00~~  
       The funeral was spectacular and all that Falcrest deserved.   Staleek honestly mourned for her at the services and wake.  Maybe differently than when Midge was torn from his life, but certainly Falcrest is a loss to him as well.  They had a good life and she had been good to him.  He can’t help but smile a little bit at how he had balked to marrying her.  Likewise, she wasn’t too thrilled about the arranged marriage but for the sake of the Empire they did so and were quite successful, he must say.  
      Their children are well on their way to running the Empire when his time comes.  They respect and love each other and will serve well beside each other.  His son is currently excelling at his military academy training and his daughter has married to a fine and shrewd diplomat.  Those two alone are a fine leadership team he has enjoyed training with Falcrest.     
     It will be up to him alone to finish their training now.  
  
      Tonight he returns home not to his suite but to his mate‘s, yes he is finally accepting the title into his heart even if it‘s too late.  Tonight he will finally look at the last gift she gave him.  Falcrest’s gift of love for him.  Swiftly casting aside his regal attire, he slips into his soft robe.   Grabbing the data pad and his cup of warm tea, he settles into her window seat.    
      With a sip, he pulls up the first stolen file from the Peace Keeper’s Records.  Here is their plan to breed a Scarran-Sebacean hybrid and plant him as a spy within the Scarran political ranks.  
    “Bastards and they called us primitive beasts!”  
     With disgust he flicks to the next file.  Midge.   There’s her face at the top of the file.  The other half of the flickering image he saw dragged from his royal suite that night.  The cup tumbles from his hand spilling into the carpet as he stares at the image of his lover.    As hard as it is, he tears his eyes from the picture and begins reading.  
     With each line he reads, he sees the truth to the words Midge told him.  With each word written, he sees that she not only came in and accidentally met him, but she succeeded in her mission to collect the sample.  
    His clawed hand covers his gaping sharp maw that had bitten and marked her as his own as he filled her with her mission.  His other hand drops the pad to cover his eyes as he remembers those sweet sounds she made as they made love.  The nostrils flare as he remembers that scent she gave off and the joke he made about her being in heat.  She was.  
     “Oh….no…”  
    His heart begins racing as he scrambles for the pad.   Searching through all the frivolous details and science talk, he finds what Falcrest was telling him:  
     ‘Go find your children.’  
      Panting, he dives for the comline:  “Get me a cartographer RIGHT NOW!  Then WAKE him!”  
      Staleek runs his hands over his racing chest once more and continues to read while waiting for his orders to be followed.  To his horror he finds that when Scorpius was accepted by the Peace Keepers, his children and mate were to be extinguished.  The war cost him personally.  
       The next line leaves him sinking to the chair…Midge died helping her children escape the execution orders.  It is unknown if they survived or perished.   The information brings bile up into his throat on the verge of purging.  
         The pad falls from his hands once again.   Today has been one HELL of a day.  Leader or not, he is a twice widowed man and a father twice over as well.  It’s a lot to take in and his head is more than throbbing in time to the pain in his chest.  
  
       A knock at the door brings his head up.  “Enter.”  Just as the professional comes to his side, he notices there is a wealth of more data on this pad.  Swiftly he flicks through it and a smile begins to spread across his face to the scattering of notes and rumors.  
      “I do so love you, Falcrest,” he smiles up to the confused and blurry eyed map maker.  
      “You called, Sire.  It was urgent?”  
      Staleek grins widely for the first time in years.   “What I am about to show you does not leave these quarters.  If you tell anyone, I will have you beheaded.”  
      The poor man is no longer blurry-eyed.  “Of-of course, Sire!”  
      Staleek yanks the man into a chair beside him and shows him the rumored notes of a strange young couple on a distant agriculture planet.


End file.
